


Hazbin Hotel: Scars Don't Heal

by Animator2197, MoonleFey



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Anger, Angst, Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Asexual Relationship, Betrayal, Cussing, Demons, F/M, Hazbin Hotel - Freeform, Hell, I don't know what else to put here..., I swear, Partner Betrayal, Past Lives, Past Relationship(s), Platonic Relationships, Rate Mature For Language, Violence, angry souls, but it gets better, ehhh...not really slow burn, maybe some future fluff, maybe some murder, might change as the story goes, this is a pretty sad story, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:14:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 56,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22124674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Animator2197/pseuds/Animator2197, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonleFey/pseuds/MoonleFey
Summary: “Well, well, well. It’s been a while, hasn’t it? What? Seventy or so years? That’s a long time to be gone. How was your self-exile?” Lucifer's claws tapped the wooden table impatiently, awaiting an immediate answer.His guest narrowed her eyes. “It’s been...enlightening.” Her voice was accented heavily and spread through the air like silk and honey. “Not exactly the highlight of my afterlife, that’s for sure.”“So, I take it you still haven’t gotten over the incident?” He questioned chastely.“I would hardly call it an ‘incident’. It was far more personal than that.”--Countess, an extremely powerful and dangerous demon, disappeared nearly seventy years ago. So when she resurfaces everyone is left wondering, where was she? Despite her shady reputation, she seems adamant on helping wherever she can. Which leads her to the Hazbin Hotel.But there's something about Countess that puts everyone off. There seems to be a history between her and Alastor, one that might change the future of the hotel forever.--Updates might be really irregular. I apologize in advance.
Relationships: Alastor & Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor & Charlie Magne, Alastor & Husk & Niffty (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor & Vaggie (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) & Everyone, Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)/Original Character(s), Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)/Original Female Character(s), Charlie Magne & Everyone, Everyone & Original Character, Vaggie (Hazbin Hotel) & Everyone
Comments: 81
Kudos: 266





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed that CRAPPY excuse of a summary. Hopefully the Introduction piques your interest a bit more than that summary did. AH HA! Anyway, hope you all like the intro!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed that CRAPPY excuse of a summary. Hopefully the Introduction piques your interest a bit more than that summary did. AH HA! Anyway, hope you all like the intro!

“Well, well, well. It’s been a while, hasn’t it? What? Seventy or so years? That’s a long time to be gone. How was your self-exile?” 

The limelight glinted off his glass, sparkling in the dim glow of the room. Lucifer took a small sip of his fine wine, raising an eyebrow. His claws tapped the wooden table impatiently, awaiting an immediate answer. 

A waiter walked by, presenting another glass of wine. Lucifer plucked it from the tray and slid it down the table. 

His guest narrowed her eyes, ignoring the glass of liquor skidding across the table. The single tip of her talon stopped it from toppling over the edge. The blood-red drink sloshed dangerously and threatened to spill but she did not let it. She pulled it back and straightened her posture. 

“It’s been...enlightening.” Her voice was accented heavily and spread through the air like silk and honey. “Not exactly the highlight of my afterlife, that’s for sure.” 

Lucifer placed his glass on a plate and folded his arms over the table, leaning over. His face split into a large grin. 

“So, I take it you still haven’t gotten over the incident?” He questioned chastely. 

Her ever-deepening scowl went down a bit further into a snarl, revealing her pearly white fangs. 

“I would hardly call it an ‘incident’. It was far more personal than that.” The room suddenly became suffocatingly hot, her fiery eyes nearly glowing as the single lamp hanging from the ceiling swayed limply. 

“Come now, you mustn’t take the actions of one single demon so heavily. After all, it’s what the power craving overlords do. They eliminate anyone standing in their way. You should know, you are one.” 

“ _Was_ one. I’ve given up the endless fight for dominance in a life that no longer demands meaning a long time ago.” She picked up the wine and rolled it between her forefinger and thumb, blinking slowly as if in deep thought. 

“Perhaps that is why they continuously fight? There’s no meaning to life anymore so they contain their boredom through what they do best...” Lucifer commented, tilting his head and watching his guest with ever-growing interest. “Destruction.” 

“I don’t destroy for the hell of it.” She snorted in distaste. “In fact, I would prefer not too. I’m a politician, not a tyrant.” 

“But you _are_ a murderer.” 

She stopped twirling her glass, her razor-sharp talons cracking the fragile glass. Spiderwebs cracked against its surface and wine leaked out of the edges. 

“I am.” She replied coolly although her posture was now stiff. The surge in the room was almost tangible Lucifer could run his fingers through it. It seems even after seventy years of isolation, his guest was still a fireball. Which wasn’t a surprise. She’d always been emotional. She continued, “But what of it? It’s why I’m here, yes, but I haven’t slaughtered anyone in years.” 

“That may be true but despite your noble words you still can destroy. I’ve seen what you can do. Why leave such immense power to rot in the deepest recesses of your soul? So many demons would sell their souls again to have the power you possess.”

“Perhaps it’s not as grand as you think it to be!” She snapped, the walls trembling. “I was defeated. My powers did nothing to aid me.”

“We both know it wasn’t because you were too weak. Your opponent probably would’ve lost in a battle of prowess.” Lucifer chuckled, leaning back into his chair. “No, no. It was because of how he played the game. It was a game of the heart, dear Countess, and he won.” 

“Obviously!” The glass snapped. Tables and chairs around them were suddenly overturned, flown into the walls and reduced to mere splinters. Her eyes clouded with darkness and her wings, hidden prior, unfurled with rage. 

Lucifer did not move, even as she snorted out a plume of flame. He quenched the ember in his hair and pulled one elbow over the back of the chair, clearly amused. 

Countess, his guest, was seething with rage. A forked tail twitched behind her so he patiently waited for her emotions to die down. If there was one thing he had learned about Countess is that you could rile her up but you had to let her calm herself before continuing with anything. Or else you might find yourself surrounded by piles of ash and warping portals. Even after all this time, she hadn’t quite figured out how to control what truly made her dangerous. 

“Are you done?” 

She huffed but promptly sat in her seat, her wings folding behind her and disappearing. “I suppose so.” 

“So, I suppose after that show, I should cut to the chase. You’ve been gone for nearly a century. Why come back now?” 

Countess didn’t respond, just licked her ruby red lips and glanced away. 

“You know where he is?” He asked, more of a statement than a question. 

“Of course.”

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed, a hint of hostility peaking in the atmosphere. “That’s where my daughter is.”

“I have no quarrel with the lovely Princess. Only with who she now harbors.” Countess waved her clawed hand in the air, a gesture of dismissal. 

“If she gets harmed because you two can’t behave--”

“No harm will come to dear Charlotte. I promise you.”

Lucifer took a sip of his wine, settling down again. “She prefers to go by Charlie now.”

“How quaint.”

“Yes…” 

Countess picked at the shattered glass on the table absentmindedly, a hand now resting on her cheek. Her nose wrinkled. “How has Hell been treating your family? When I last saw you, Charole--Charlie was in a bit of a rebellious phase.”

“Yes, she’s moved on from that now. She’s now convinced that demons can be redeemed. She’s created a hotel just for that purpose. A foolish endeavor but I support my daughter no matter what.”

“An interesting thought.”

“Family support?”

Countess scowled. “No, redemption. It’s a noble goal. I’ve never once considered it. Do you think it’s possible?”

“I’d rather not say.” Lucifer chuckled at Countess’s displeased expression. “Where’s the fun in telling? You should just watch where it goes and see if it works out. I have an inkling of hope held out for her and her ridiculous schemes but perhaps that’s just the parent in me.” 

“Is it...nice?”

“Pardon?”

“Having a family?” 

Lucifer hummed softly. “It is nice. Lilith is charming and Charlie is adorable. Somehow, it brings me great joy. Aside from watching idiots suffer because of the stupid choices they’ve made. What gets me going, though, is when they come in and think Hell didn’t exist. It does! They’re standing in it!” He chortled at his joke, Countess was usurped. She merely crossed her arms and she rolled her eyes. “I thought you two had it going for a while there. It’s a shame he did what he did. You and A--”  
  
The room shook once more as Countess’s temper returned. 

“Don’t you dare say his name around me! Whatever affection he flaunted towards me was a sham to gain my trust!” She cleared her throat, the buzz in the room dying out. “It’s of no consequence, though. I intend to settle the matter soon.” 

“Oh, my. An all-out war between two extremely powerful beings? This oughta be fun. Oh! Tell me when you two plan to duke it out. I want to see the devastation.” 

“We won’t be fighting. No, I want to settle this in a way that doesn’t involve making a crater out of Hell. I have a different idea.” 

“Hmm, you ever tried making a deal? He loves those.” 

“No…” Countess furrowed her brows, a dark shadow falling upon her features. “I want him to suffer the way I did for seventy years. I want him to know what it feels like to have your heart ripped in two. I want him to feel like everything is hopeless and that despite the tears he sheds, it will never be enough to fill the void that used to be his heart. He will know true pain once I am finished with him.” 

“Ooh, fun!”

Countess stood up from the table, grabbing her black trench coat hanging on the chair. “I better be off. It’s quite a way to travel.” 

“Of course. It was nice to finally see you again. I guess it’s customary to wish you luck but I won’t.” Lucifer stood and straightened his bow tie, tipping his wine glass toward Countess as a goodbye. “Farewell, dragoness.” 

“Goodbye, Lucifer,” Countess heaved the doors to the pub open, stepping out onto the burgundy streets of Hell. The stench of rotting flesh and ash coated the streets, a smell she did not miss. She flicked her tail and touched a small rodent demon leaning against the pub’s exterior. “Come now, Rudy. We have an old friend to see.”   


Her heels clicked against the asphalt as the sky darkened, thunder rumbling from afar. 


	2. Good To See You Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***
> 
> “Countess is back and she’s coming here. To the hotel. Tomorrow.”
> 
> Vaggie’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open before she sucked in a breath and threw out a string of curses.
> 
> “The Countess? No! She can’t come here! He’s here!” Vaggie pulled at her messy hair, a common habit of hers when she was stressed. “We’ve gotta hide him somehow!”
> 
> “That’s the problem, I don’t think we can. I mean, why else do you think she would come here specifically? She’s looking for him.” 
> 
> ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a warning for cussing... 
> 
> I don't like cussing, I personally don't cuss often but it's a part of certain characters and I can't change that. So, I'm sorry but not really sorry because it's Hazbin Hotel and this show isn't for kids. But I thought I'd warn you all beforehand! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

The thunder was what woke Charlie up first. She rose from her pillow in a cold sweat with an unsettling feeling dropping in her stomach. She groaned and rubbed her eyes trying to grind the sleep out of them. The grandeur of her room was lit white as lightning streaked across the crimson sky. Charlie turned around, looking out her window. 

Weird, it hardly ever rained in Hell. The weather was pretty nonexistent. Yet here it was raining cats and dogs on the bloodied ground. Her lips parted, goosebumps chasing up her arm. She rubbed them away and uneasily settled back into her bed, pulling the blankets over her.

Despite the rumbling thunder and thrashing wind, Charlie’s eyes managed to slowly fall closed. Sleep was finally beginning to take her deep into the dream world--until her phone began ringing from her dresser. 

Charlie growled in irritation, turning over and lifting her phone from her nightstand. Her eyes widened when she saw the name of the caller. 

_Dad?_

_What could he possibly want at this hour of the night?_ Charlie thought, black painted fingernail hovering over the answer button. _He’s been ignoring my calls for two months straight. He hasn’t wanted to talk to me since I opened the hotel. I wonder what he could want._

Charlie gulped down her uncertainty and answered the phone, lifting it to her ear. 

“H-Hey Dad? What’s up?”

Charlie blinked once. Lightning splintered the sky, casting ominous shadows across her room.

“Wha-- Who? Oh. Her? She was always nice to me. What-- Wait, you mean she’s back? And coming _here_? Dad! No! She can’t come here! _He’s_ here! It’s going to be a bloodbath-- Hello? Dad!” 

Charlie threw her phone disgust, pulling her knees up to her chest. 

_He hung up on me!_

She ran her hands down her face, mumbling curses into her palms. This wasn’t good. Not only had business been slow in the hotel but now Countess, the dragon demon herself, was coming to the hotel. Tomorrow. Charlie wasn’t ready! Besides, Countess had been gone for like, what? Seventy years? Why was she deciding to come back now? Of all times?

With _him_ in the hotel?

 _Oh, god. This is not going to end well. I need to tell Vaggie. Right now_. 

Charlie threw the blankets off of her, tossing a robe on and dashing out the door. She took a right and began to pound on Vaggie’s door. She heard a groggled response and the sound of feet shuffling up to the door. Moments later, the door opened and Vaggie yawned loudly. 

“Hey, Charlie. You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Heh, which is funny. Because we’re dead and in Hell.” Vaggie chuckled tiredly. “But seriously, are you okay?”

“No, not really. Dad just called.” Charlie sighed. “Can I come in?”

“Sure, of course, yeah.” Vaggie cracked the door open wider so Charlie could walk in. 

Charlie slipped inside, taking a seat on Vaggie’s bed. 

“So...what did he say?”

“Not a lot. It was pretty much just an informative talk. Which is why I’m here...I’ve got some bad news.”

Vaggie sat down beside Charlie, rubbing her shoulders. “I’m sure it can’t be that bad.”

“Countess is back and she’s coming here. To the hotel. Tomorrow.”

Vaggie’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open before she sucked in a breath and threw out a string of curses.

“ _The_ Countess? No! She can’t come here! _He’s_ here!” Vaggie pulled at her messy hair, a common habit of hers when she was stressed. “We’ve gotta hide him somehow!”

“That’s the problem, I don’t think we can. I mean, why else do you think she would come here specifically? She’s looking for him.” Thunder shook the hotel and Charlie pinched the bridge of her nose. “Oh, Vaggie. I don’t know what to do! The only reason we have the hotel running right now is because Alastor is pumping a ton of money into maintenance. We’ve had over twelve prank calls about ‘potential customers’ and now this? How’re we gonna do it?” Her voice cracked. “I don’t know what to do anymore. It feels so hopeless.”

“Hey, hey, shhh,” Vaggie reassured calmly, pulling Charlie into a warm hug. “Listen, we’ll be fine. This whole Countess issue might not be a bad thing.”

“How?” Charlie sniffed, looking up into Vaggie’s soft eyes. 

“Well, lots of demons know her, right? Even the ones that haven’t been around since the forties know about her and her history. She’s famous. Even if she hasn’t been seen in years. If she stays here and it works out, we might just be a big success. Demons from all over will hear how the reality-warping dragoness was redeemed and sent to Heaven. Think of it as...publicity!” 

“What if it doesn’t work?”

Vaggie shrugged. “We’ll just go back to what we’ve been doing. Waiting for demons to come to us of their own accord. We’ve got this, okay? You’ve always believed in me. So, now it’s my turn to believe in you.”

Charlie’s lip began to quiver and tears of gratefulness collected in her eyes. “Aw, thanks, Vaggie. You’ve always been there for me!” 

“And I always will be.” Vaggie rested her chin on Charlie’s head, stroking her soft blonde hair. Charlie hugged her friend, wiping her tears away. 

“Aw! This shit is too cute!” 

Both girls looked over at the new voice. Lightning flashed, revealing Angel Dust leaning against the door frame with a goofy smile on his face. Vaggie and Charlie screamed. Vaggie reached behind her and yanked a pillow from her bed, nailing Angel in the face.

“Jeezum, Angel! Mind your own business!” She screamed, her face flushed pink. “Get out of here!” 

“Ow, jeez. Okay, okay! Cool ya tits, babe. I’m leavin’.” Angel shielded his face as another pillow assaulted him. “Hey! I said I was leavin’!” 

Angel left the room with a pout on his mouth. Vaggie and Charlie giggled as he slunk away back to his room. Charlie yawned and nuzzled her face into Vaggie’s shoulder. 

“Can I stay here for the rest of the night?” 

Vaggie smiled warmly and combed through Charlie’s hair gently. “Of course, hun. You can stay here as long as you want.” 

“Thanks,” She yawned again, closing her eyes and letting sleep take her away as Vaggie cradled her in her arms. 

  
  


Charlie dreaded the morning. 

The moment she woke up, she knew she was in for a wild ride. Even if the weather was better now. Despite things in the hotel starting up as normal, she couldn’t help the feeling of trepidation that had made a home in the back of her mind. Some things did put her at ease, though. Niffty was joyous as ever, whirling around the hotel and finding bits and pieces of trash to throw away. Husk was his normal morning self; grumpy, but even he seemed to be in a slightly better mood. Vaggie was content, having slept with Charlie last night put her at ease. Angel was actually being helpful, taste-testing some things in the kitchen. Which was where _he_ was. 

Alastor had taken it upon himself to be their cook for now. At least until they could find an actual chef willing to make food. Nobody complained, in fact, Alastor was an excellent cook. He always commented on how his mother used to make food for him so he decided to do the same for them. 

Alastor’s grin seemed wider than usual this morning. Charlie wondered if he knew. She wouldn’t be surprised, Countess’s return was probably all over the headlines and Alastor always read the newspaper when it came in. Or perhaps he just knew because he had eyes everywhere. That wouldn’t surprise her either.

Vaggie and her decide that worrying everyone about Countess’s supposed visit was a bad idea. Especially with Alastor around. Charlie didn’t know many details but before Countess disappeared, she and Alastor had been good friends. Something went wrong, though, and now she hasn’t been seen since. In prior times, when news reporters had questioned Alastor about the incident he killed them—brutally. It was clear that whatever occurred was something he didn’t want to speak about or remember. And the wrath of The Radio Demon was something that Charlie didn’t want to provoke today. 

The morning went by smoothly. There wasn’t a sign of Countess anywhere and Charlie was starting to feel a little better. That was until the storm returned. The winds surged around the hotel, making the old foundation creak and moan. Angel made some stupid sex comment about it to which everyone politely ignored. The rain was coming down in torrents, much more than it was last night. Niffty started the fireplace and everyone sat down to enjoy a cup of coffee or hot chocolate. 

It was nice, being around the others and just talking and having fun. It felt...right. Homely. Charlie couldn’t remember the last time she felt at home. Even home didn’t feel like home anymore. But sitting here and listening to the fire crackle made her feel safe. 

Charlie smiled and rested her head on Vaggie’s shoulder while Alastor recounted one of his many slaughters. 

That’s when the door blew open. It startled everyone. Husk cursed and used his liquor bottle as a weapon. Niffty ducked behind a sofa and the rest stood up in alarm. 

Thunder cracked the sky and lightning split the clouds. A dark figure stood in the doorway, her hair drenched with water but her face twisted and menacing. 

Charlie’s breath caught in her throat. 

It was her. 

_Countess._

Another spark of lightning revealed her glowing eyes, like embers in a dying fire. Her skin was a pale red, almost pink. Four teardrop-like markings sat underneath her eyes. She snarled as she honed in on her target. Countess stomped forward, water dripping off of her coat. Her heels sloshed against the carpet as she approached the waiting crowd. Her hair was messy and sopping wet but one could make out that she had her pale blue hair pinned up in multiple sweeping curls. 

Charlie looked over at Alastor, trying to read his expression.

His grin was sharpened to a point, his eyes squinted and studying. Alastor’s eyebrows were furrowed and the gaze in his eyes...Charlie couldn’t tell if it was anger or fear. Charlie had never seen Alastor show a hint of fear towards anyone. Not even at her dad, which was surprising because everyone feared her dad. 

His back was rigid, unmoving as Countess came closer and closer. 

The cold breeze of the storm turned boiling hot. The walls of the hotel began to shake but not from the thunder. No. It was as if the sheer rage the dragon-demoness was projecting was quaking the earth. It probably was.

Soon enough, Countess stopped nearly nose to nose with Alastor.

She was fuming, shoulders heaving up and down with her angry pants. 

Seconds passed and they just stared at each other. 

Countess, snarling with rage and Alastor, looking as smug as ever.

But then…

She _slapped_ him.

The sound concussed around the room and everyone took in a sharp breath. The force of the slap echoed across the walls. 

“Holy shit!” Angel exclaimed, breaking the silence.

Alastor’s smile never faltered. He rubbed his cheek and flashed his yellow teeth.

“I suppose I deserve that.” He merely said, staring down his nose at Countess. 

She huffed and began to turn away, going out the way she came. 

“Is that all, dear Countess? Surely you didn’t come here just to smack me?” Alastor taunted, arms held out wide. An open invitation. 

Countess whirled around, eyes blazing. The crowd shrunk back, leaving Alastor alone. 

“You’re right,” Countess seethed. “I didn’t come here just to smack you.”

She uppercut him under the chin. 

Charlie let out a small gasp, her hand covering her mouth. 

Alastor staggered back but didn’t show signs of backing down. He stood up straight, that ever-present grin turning sinister. 

Countess stood her ground. Now nearly dried, Charlie could see that Countess was beautiful. Despite her mouth twisted up into a snarl, her features were glowing. Her makeup was perfect, reflective of the time when she died. Her body was pear-shaped and curvy and she rose just below Alastor’s shoulders. She wore a long, black trench coat that fanned out just below her knees. She also wore a dark blue turtleneck under the coat and high-waisted dress pants with black heels. 

“I have always wanted to do that,” Countess’s scowl faded for a second, replaced by a menacing grin but it disappeared as quickly as it had come. “That felt good.”

“I’m sure you’ve waited all seventy years patiently.” Alastor mocked.

“Hardly.” Countess snapped, her cold demeanor returning. “I think I’ll make my exit.” 

“That’s seriously it?!” Angel complained, arms hanging limply at his sides. “I was expecting a _real_ fight. Some creepy edgy shit.” 

Vaggie smacked him on the back of his head and Angel hissed in pain. 

Charlie bit her lip and watched Countess walk out the door. Charlie looked at Vaggie who was motioning toward Countess, mouthing words Charlie couldn’t make out. Charlie shrugged her shoulders. Vaggie facepalmed and walked over to her. 

“Don’t let her leave! Remember the plan?” Vaggie harshly whispered in her ear.

“Oh! Right!” Charlie snapped her fingers in remembrance. She dashed the door. “Wait! Countess!” 

The demoness stopped, her tail swaying sweetly behind her. She turned around, eyes softening. “Yes, Charlie?” 

“You should stay! As a guest!” 

“WHAT?!” Husk exclaimed, outraged. 

The whole room erupted into shouting voices. Vaggie stomped her foot to get them to be quiet before Charlie continued. 

“Think about it, you could stay here, rent-free and everything. We’ll cook for you and you’ll get to see if our rehab works. Please? Maybe even just for a few nights? It would mean a lot to me.” Charlie pouted, smiling innocently up at Countess. 

Countess looked skeptical and tapped her foot on the rain-soaked carpet. 

“I don’t know, Charlie,” Countess mused. “Well, I am curious. It seems like a lovely establishment and I would be more than happy to help but…” 

Her slitted eyes landed on Alastor. 

“I’ll politely decline.” Countess lovingly patted Charlie’s shoulder before exiting. “Goodbye, sweet Charlie.”

“Okay,” Charlie deflated. 

“See you soon, Countess!” Alastor sang cheerily, waving a clawed hand. 

Countess growled loudly. “No, you will _not_!” 

The doors slammed shut, taking with it the chill of the storm. Slowly, all eyes turned to Alastor. He had his arms folded behind his back and he was humming happily. He quickly noticed everyone staring and tilted his head. 

“What?” He spoke innocently, a laugh track sounded. 

Vaggie groaned and slid into a couch. “That was a train wreck.” 

“I found it rather entertaining!” 

“Of course, you did.”

Husk grumbled something about needing more booze and walked over to the bar. 

“Why, I haven’t seen Countess in ages! I have to admit, it was a surprise to see her again.” Alastor tapped his chin thoughtfully, his eyes glazing over as if remembering something. 

“She _punched_ you. That doesn’t bother you at all?” Angel questioned, pulling his long legs over an armchair. 

“Hmm, should it? It was all in good fun!” 

Husk snorted. “Fun, sure. She looked pissed.” 

Niffty ran over the wet floor with a mop, nodding her head. “Yep!” 

Alastor shrugged his shoulders, whipping a book out of thin air and settling on the sofa to read. Charlie watched him warily, walking over to stand by Vaggie who looked just as concerned. 

“It could’ve been worse.” Charlie offered.

Vaggie sighed. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Suddenly, the ground quaked. Charlie stumbled and fell into Vaggie’s arms. Husk and Angel cursed loudly as vases were thrown from their places, cups, and plates shattered on the wooden floors, and the windows screeched in agony. 

“What the hell was that?” Angel gasped, clutching his fluffy chest.

Alastor licked the tip of his finger and turned a page in his book. “I think I know.”

* * *

Countess watched the ruby blood drip from her fingers, glass crunched beneath her feet as she stepped over the torn carcasses. The stench of burning flesh and metal seared into her nose. Small fires ignited on the roofs and walls of tiny domiciles. She stalked towards her victim, trembling in a smoldering hole. 

He was breathing heavily, suffering from multiple wounds there were oozing precious blood. 

Vox, the TV demon, glanced up in awe and fear. He spat out a droplet of crimson blood, cursing Countess. His normally neat and ironed attire was tattered and burned. Glitches of static danced across his screen-like face. She waited patiently for him, her tail brushing away debris. 

“What?” She questioned, kneeling. “Did you think I was rusty?”

“Countess.” Vox gasped, struggling to stand. “You’ve been gone for seventy years and you can _still_ kick my ass. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“No,” She replied softly, toying with a broken piece of charred rubble. “It does not. My apologies, but you _were_ the one that started it.” 

“How do you do it?”

“What?”

Vox coughed, a small crack spreading across his face, “How did you acquire this kind of power? Altering _reality itself_? It shouldn’t be possible.”

“But it is.”

“I can’t do _anything_ to you. Anything!” He shouted, hands curling into fists. “Whatever I throw at you you just turn to butterflies or something shitty like that. It doesn’t make any sense. No one in Hell can do that! No one! How _did_ he ever defeat you? If I can’t, then how did _he_? Of all the demons in Hell, how did _Alastor_ beat you?”

Countess stood up, brushing ash from her coat. “Well, he didn’t beat me by using his powers, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Then how did he do it? How could he beat someone who can _change reality?_ Because I’m at a loss.” Vox paused. “Was it wit? Did he somehow outsmart you?”

“It was something of that nature but it went far deeper than that.” Countess snapped her fingers. The fire’s puffed from existence and pieces of broken buildings found their places again. Vox’s wounds were instantly healed and his outfit restored. It was as if the fight had never happened. “And it’s something I’d rather not talk about.”

Vox chuckled, his usual demeanor returning. “What? Did he sleep with you?”

“We both know Alastor isn’t the type to do that,” Countess answered apoplectically. “And did I not just say that I wished not to speak about it?”

Vox ignored her and continued. “Did he threaten to kill your rodent driver? Did you make a deal with him? Or...maybe he--”

Vox flew through the air, his throat landing into Countess’s outstretched hand. He gasped for air as she tightened her talons around his precious windpipe. Her eyes flashed brightly and she growled, revealing her sharp fangs. 

“I said, I don’t want to talk about it. One more question and I’ll rip that lovely head of yours off your shoulders. Understand?” She said, her voice gravelly and low. Vox nodded reluctantly and she dropped him. 

Vox grimaced and rubbed his neck. “Bitch,”

Countess turned away from Vox, walking down the empty road towards a lone limo. 

“Besides, the past matters little. The tables have turned and when the time comes...Alastor will be begging for my mercy. They _all_ will.” 

Lighting snapped through the sky and she was gone, leaving Vox shaking on the ground. Cursing her and her devilish plans. While he despised Alastor’s guts, he couldn’t help but feel a little bit afraid for him.

Alastor had fucked up. And he was about to pay the price.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Vox was...interesting. I don't know much about his character but I needed him so HERE HE IS! 
> 
> I hope you all liked this chapter and hopefully, the next one will be out soon! 
> 
> Don't forget to leave a kudos and drop a comment. I love comments and might answer a question or two! 
> 
> Love you all! <3


	3. The Unthinkable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***
> 
> She froze. 
> 
> Oh no. 
> 
> She knew that knock. 
> 
> That was his knock. That signature knock. Cheerful. Deceptive. 
> 
> Countess looked over at her door and out the window. Sure enough, there he was. 
> 
> Alastor. 
> 
> Standing outside her door.
> 
> ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm surprised at how well I'm cranking these out! 
> 
> Unfortunately, this daily postage might stop. School will be starting up for me and it keeps me really busy but hopefully, I'll be putting at least one out every single week. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy the chapter!
> 
> Australian slang that was used: 
> 
> Piss Off – go away, get lost
> 
> Crook – Being ill or angry; ‘Don’t go crook on me for getting crook’
> 
> Drongo – a Fool, ‘Don’t be a drongo mate’
> 
> Wanka - idiot

Ivory, silver, gold, green, black…

Countess forgot how many colors truly did exist in Hell. Despite the drowning shades of red and undertones of burgundy. It was beautiful, in a certain way. At night, the lights of the city shone like stars. She’d forgotten what it was like to be surrounded by so much. It was overwhelming at first but then it was just awe-inspiring. The advancement in technology had caught her by surprise. Sure, she knew about HD televisions but this smartphone thing puzzled her. How could a phone be smart? It was just a machine, after all. 

She watched as the buildings faded into blurs that smeared across her limo window. Countess leaned back in her seat, gazing out sadly at everything she’d missed out on during those seventy years. It was all _his_ fault. And she resented him for it. 

Rudy--her driver, secretary, and basically everything--drove out of the city and onto the open country where rolls of crimson hills dipped into dangerous valleys. Out here, terrifying creatures roamed the hellscape. Of course, they didn’t dare approach Countess’s estate. One had made the mistake of attacking her home once. She never saw a creature again after she made a spectacle of it. Even as the limo drove through the old dirt roads, she saw tails disappear behind bushes. 

Even the mutated creatures of Hell knew not to mess with Countess. They were the smart ones. 

One of Rudy’s large ears twitched back, her hooded orange eyes glancing in the rearview mirror. Countess locked eyes with her but quickly looked away. 

She knew what was coming and she wished she didn’t live so far away. 

“You should do it.” Rudy simply said, her eyes returning to the road. 

“Do what?” Countess questioned, playing dumb. 

“You know what I’m talking about. The hotel. Even if you don’t stay as a resident you should at least help somehow. It looks like they could use all the help they can get.” Rudy tsked quietly. “Don’t be a drongo, mate. You know you want to help.” 

“Extra Australian today, aren’t we, Rudy?” Countess snapped, trying to change the subject. 

“What can I say, we Aussie’s know how to do it right.” Rudy glanced back again and saw the pout on Countess’s lips. “Bloody hell, Glen! Stop pouting or I’ll pull the car over!” 

“Who _pays_ you?” She threatened, mood turning sour. 

“Don’t get all crook on me.” Rudy sneered. “It’s not like you _have_ to use the car. You could fly back home if you wanted or snap your fingers and just teleport there.”

“You know it’s not that easy for me.”

“‘Member that one day Alastor showed up and you teleported the _whole house_? You can’t tell me it’s not that easy for you.” Rudy argued. 

“I was angry!”

“Aren’t you always?”

“You’re not helping!” Countess growled dangerously, her temper peeking. 

“Look, Glen, I know the past seventy years haven’t been treating you well.” Rudy stated, sadness edging her voice. “I just wanna see you smile again. And I know that helping with the Hazbin Hotel is something you want to do. It’d be good for you. You’ve just gotta try it out.”

“But _he’s_ there!” 

“Who gives a flying turd about that bloke?!” Rudy scoffed. “Alastor’s just a big bunch o’ talk and no work. He knows he’s got nothing on you.”

“Doesn’t stop him from trying.”

“Well, sure,” Rudy smiled wickedly. “But I’ll kick him in the shins.”

Countess snorted holding back a laugh. “I would pay to see that.”

“Nah, you can see it for free! I’ll give him a good ol’ kick right to the knees. We’ll see how big and bad he is then.” 

Countess chuckled fondly. “You’re a good friend, Rudy.”

“A much better friend than that cherry colored wanka ever was. I’ll always be here for you, Glen. That’s a promise.” Rudy smiled into the mirror and Countess smiled back.

“It’s nice…” Countess hummed quietly. 

“What is?”

“My name...I haven’t heard someone say my real name in a long time.”

“It’s pretty. Glenda is a pretty name. I should say it more often.”

Countess rested her cheek on her hand, watching the hills turn into thousands of trees. “You should.”

“Well, look at that. We’ve arrived.” 

Countess craned her neck to look through the front windshield. 

Just as Rudy had said, her mansion crept over the hills. It was a quaint little thing, as quaint as a mansion could be. It was white and black, a welcomed relief from all the reds. Before it lay a courtyard and a fountain. They pulled in over the old cobblestone and parked before the dark ebony doors. 

“Home sweet home!” Rudy exclaimed, hopping out of the limo. 

Countess nodded, stepping out and closing her door. 

The house was still grand to be sure. Its dark rooftops climbed into the sky three stories high. Large windows decorated with intricate polished metal sat on every wall, golden curtains concealing what lay inside. 

Countess stepped up the silver steps and flung her massive doors open. They echoed lonesomely against her pearly walls. The foyer was spacious with a spiral staircase traveling up to the second floor that consisted of the bedrooms and bathrooms. To her left as the library, adorned and stuffed to the brim with books of all shapes and sizes. To her right were the kitchen and dining room. Rudy immediately approached the kitchen, getting ready to whip up a nice lunch.

A bit further from the foyer was the living space. Plush couches and armchairs lay in all regality in front of a brick fireplace. Behind the furniture was a small bar and beyond that were the doors to the ballroom. She’d held a party in there once. That’s when she first saw _him_ before he came knocking on her door three days later. That was when things were simple. Now, they were anything but. 

The third floor of the house was somewhere Countess hadn’t been to in seventy years. She couldn’t bring herself to do it. There were too many memories and not all of them were good. 

She sat down on a long couch, resting her head on a soft pillow. 

“Rudy, darling?” Countess called out, her voice bouncing off her somehow empty house. “Would you mind whipping up some nice apple cider?” 

“Already on it!” Came the immediate answer.

Countess thanked her and closed her eyes, trying to settle into a peaceful mood. But every time she tried to drift off, _his_ face haunted her. She sat up in frustration, waving her hand. The fireplace burst alive, the smell of smoke and pine comforted her frazzled emotions. She once again tried to lay down but this time, a knock on the door startled her. 

She froze. 

Oh _no_. 

She knew that knock. 

That was _his_ knock. That signature knock. Cheerful. Deceptive. 

Countess looked over at her door and out the window. Sure enough, there he was. 

_Alastor_. 

Standing outside her door.

The _nerve_ of that demon. 

But two could play this game.

Countess turned around, ignoring the second knock. Rudy entered the living room with a confused expression on her face. She handed her a sandwich and an apple cider, nodding towards the door with a questioning look.

Countess frowned and Rudy read it all. She nodded and walked over to the door, her small and fluffy tail flowing behind her. 

Countess watched as Rudy opened the door. 

Alastor flashed his infamous smile at the small rodent-like demon. 

“Hello, there--!” 

He let out a small yelp of pain as Rudy’s foot slammed into his unprotected shin. 

“Piss off, ya Red Bambi!” She shut the door in his face and returned with a triumphant smile. Countess congratulated her and offered her a seat on the couch. The knock returned, this time a bit more aggressive. 

“He’s not going to leave for a while,” Countess said.

Rudy grumbled a curse. “Maybe he’ll give up after a few hours and just go away.”

“Maybe…” Countess was hopeful as she ate her sandwich. The knocks continued so Rudy decided to turn on some music to drown out the sound. She placed a disk on the record player and the tunes drifted throughout the house. “Would you like to play a game of chess?”

“What? So you can win again?” Rudy answered. 

Countess smiled unapologetically and Rudy gave in. 

They both walked over to the library where a chessboard was already set up.

“Will you start or shall I?” Countess asked, taking a seat. 

“I’ll start. Maybe I’ll beat you for once if I go first.” Rudy moved her pawn and began the game. 

“Hmm, so that’s where you’re going to go?” 

“Don’t make me doubt myself!” Rudy complained, her paws hovering over the pawn she just placed out. “Now, I want to move it back!” 

“Well, you can’t.” Countess took one of her pawns and moved it also. “Now you can.”

“Yeah, but I can’t it back!” Rudy moved the same pawn forward.

“Ooh, bad decision.” Countess took a knight and removed Rudy’s pawn, advancing towards her king and queen.

“Crickey!” 

Countess cackled wickedly, waiting for Rudy to make the next move. 

There was an unexpected tap on the window. Countess’s ears perked and turned towards the origin of the sound. 

Alastor waved through the window, his grin was blinding. Countess closed the curtains, returning to the game. Another tap at the opposite window. Alastor leaned against it, cocking an eyebrow. She snarled and shut those curtains.

“Is he seriously--?” Rudy began.

“Ignore him.” Countess barked. “Just move something.”

“Alright.” Rudy moved a knight. 

“Are you sure?” Countess teased. 

“Stoppit!” 

“Who’s winning?” A male voice inquired.

Rudy screeched.

Somehow, Alastor had managed to open a window. He was sitting idly on the sill, twirling his staff. Countess narrowed her eyes and stomped up to him. 

“ _Get. Out. Of. My. Home._ ” 

The wind suddenly picked up around the house. Chess pieces knocked over books began flying around the library. 

Countess touched Alastor’s chest with one finger. His smile sharpened and shadows danced beneath his eyes. She knew how much he despised physical touch and she wanted to watch him squirm but he would never give her that gift. She pushed him out of the window and closed it. She snapped her fingers and the house began to glow a bright orange before the light faded away. 

“What did you do?” Rudy asked, picking up the game and returning it to the table. 

“I put a ward on the house. It won’t let him get in. Not by any means. Door or window. Unless, of course, one of us allows him entrance.” 

“Smart.”

“Thank you.” 

The game went by quickly. Countess won and Rudy admitted defeat. They had dinner peacefully with no sign of Alastor anywhere. The night dragged on with Countess retelling her life story for the maybe the hundredth time before the two decided to turn it in. 

They both walked up the stairs, still chatting happily before they parted. 

Countess ran through her nightly routine. Pulling her back into a loose ponytail and slipping into her soft silk pajamas. She lit a single candle and snuggled into her large, lonely bed. 

What Lucifer had said yesterday played in her mind. 

The idea of a family sounded nice, something she never got to call her own. Something she actually thought she wanted. 

It was expected of every woman during her time to find a man, marry, and have children. Countess was never like that. She was too focused on her work, too focused on proving everyone wrong. She valued her political position too much. A husband and children would have slowed her down. It was actually for the best. Her bad…’ _habits’_ would have put her family in serious danger. 

But despite that, she still wanted to have a family to call her own. To finally have a name that wasn’t just hers. She wanted to belong to someone, wanted to hold their hand, wanted to kiss them and know that they would be together forever in life and death.

There was no chance for that now. Marriage was extremely rare in Hell and if it did happen, divorce was bound to happen. Lillith and Lucifer had been married longer than any couple in Hell. Which was to be expected. Lucifer _was_ the king of Hell. Who would want to divorce someone with that much power? 

Countess chased the thought from her mind. 

She needed to calm down if she was ever going to get a good night’s sleep. 

Eventually, she drifted off, falling into a deep sleep. 

At about one in the morning, she heard something hit her window. 

Her eyes cracked open lazily. The candle she had lit earlier burned bright in the darkness of her room and flitted around playfully on the wick. She took it by the handle and shone it around her room. Nothing seemed out of place so she went back to sleep.

Another noise woke her up again. This time she took the candle and walked up to her window. Out on her balcony sat Alastor. He tossed a pebble up and down in his slender hand. His smile was mischievous. He tossed the tiny rock and it bounced off the glass of the window.

She should’ve closed the curtains and gone back to sleep but her hand stopped. This...this reminded her of something. Of a night much like this one. With crickets singing in the shrubs and a cool breeze rustling her robe. She remembered the feeling of a hand on hers. The bloom of friendship.

Alastor stood up from the balcony railing and walked up to the window. He leaned down slightly so their eyes were level. He tapped the window tauntingly. “May I come in?” He asked, his voice muffled through the glass.

Countess scowled. “No.”

“Can we at least talk?” 

“No,” She turned away from him, rubbing her arms vigorously. Was it getting cold in here? 

“Please? There’s something I want to tell you.” 

She whipped around furiously and stabbed a finger at him. “Whatever you have to say will fix nothing. I don’t think you know what you’ve _done_ to me. You don’t deserve to speak to me. Not after what you did.” 

Alastor’s eyes hooded over, his hands disappearing behind his back. “Come now, darling. It wasn’t that bad.” 

“Wasn’t _that bad_ ?” Countess hissed, throwing the windows open and yanking his collar. “You _ruined my life!_ You _broke my heart!_ You _betrayed_ me. Just like _she_ did! I can _never_ forgive you. _Ever_.” 

“If you would simply allow me to speak--”

“What could you _possibly_ have to say that’ll make up for what you’ve done?!” Tears collected in the corners of her eyes and the room began to heat up with her rage and agony. 

His smile fell a bit and he looked away. “I-I’m sorry…” He whispered, barely audible.

Countess let go and stepped away from Alastor. Surprised. 

“What did you just say…?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! 
> 
> Don't forget to leave a kudos and a comment! I love comments and might answer a question or two! 
> 
> Until next time my lovely readers! <3


	4. The Game Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***
> 
> "You broke my heart," Countess snarled. "Played with our friendship like it was some game."
> 
> "But dear," Alastor drew out, his claws trailing the sill lazily. "Life is a game." 
> 
> Countess's demeanor grew dark. She stalked up to Alastor, her eyes flashing. The room became shrouded in darkness, the stench of burning flesh cumulating in the atmosphere. She stood over Alastor, fire bursting to life in her palm. 
> 
> "You're right," She spoke sinisterly. "It is. And I've learned how to play." 
> 
> ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BOOM! Got it out! I'm thinking I'll probably post chapters every other day for now. Hope you like the chapter!

"Did you just _apologize_?" Countess inquired, her jaw slacking and her lips parting. 

"Why, yes, I think I did!"Alastor replied cheerfully. "Now, I believe it would be polite of you to let me in--"

"No, no, no," Countess said, blocking her window. "Just because you whispered an apology doesn't mean you get to come in. No, we're not at that level yet." 

"But I _did_ apologize!" Alastor pointed out. "I don't do that _ever_!" 

"An apology doesn't fix--"

"Ooh! Is that mirror new? I don't remember it..." 

"Alastor, we're not friends." Countess crossed her arms and lifted an eyebrow. 

"How so?"

"It's not that easy." She muttered. "We'll never be friends again."

"But I said sorry,"

"No, Alastor!" Countess roared, her candlelight flickering. "You can't just show up, apologize, and then act as if nothing happened! Something _did_ happen. You _hurt me._ A lot." 

Alastor watched in ever-growing fascination as tears began to gather at the edges of Countess's eyes. Blast it! Why was she always so sensitive?! He was exceptionally good at exploiting her weaknesses. 

"Why won't you leave me in peace?" She cried out defensively. 

"Oh, dear Glenda." He cooed, resting the back of his head against the window.

"It seems my decisions have left you quite broken. Won't you at least give me the chance to make it right?" Alastor said, extending his hand.

She smacked it away, her rage boiling over. "Don't call me that _ever_ again. You lost the right to call me that." 

"I don't quite understand the problem," Alastor hoisted himself on the window sill, not daring to enter any further. "Overlords overthrow each other often. More often than most people think. It's a never-ending battle. I expected you to come back a lot sooner, seeking revenge, but here you are! After seventy years of self-exile, you're _here_. Crying and saying I broke your heart. Surely it wasn't that personal?" 

"Wasn't. That. _Personal?_ " 

Countess was seething with fury. The candle flickered out, and they were concealed in a blanket of darkness. The crisp night breeze drifted in from the window, stirring a few blank papers on Countess's desk. Neither demon moved for some time. Alastor stared at her with unblinking ruby eyes. Countess's fingers twitched, anxiously awaiting an answer. 

"You _broke_ my heart," Countess snarled. "Played with our friendship like it was some game."

"But dear," Alastor drew out, his claws trailing the sill lazily. "Life _is_ a game." 

Countess's demeanor grew dark. She stalked up to Alastor, her eyes flashing. The room became shrouded in darkness, the stench of burning flesh cumulating in the atmosphere. She stood over Alastor, fire bursting to life in her palm. 

"You're right," She spoke sinisterly. "It is. And I've learned how to play." 

Alastor's eyes widened, and his smile opened to reveal those yellow pointed teeth. He swung his long legs over the window, standing up perfectly straight on the balcony's golden rail. 

"Is that so?" He sang, his cane appearing in a brilliant puff of scarlet. "Well, then, _Countess_. I look forward to this new game of ours." 

He extended both of his arms, winking. Alastor tilted back, falling off the balcony. 

Countess, despite herself, gasped and leaned out her window to see. 

A shadow slunk away from her home, slipping through the trees and flying past the hills. 

Countess grumbled multiple curses before shutting her window, locking it, and then stumbling back to her bed. She was way too tired to worry about Alastor. 

But the game had begun.

And she was great at games. 

* * *

"You what!?" 

"We declared a game of sorts," Alastor tapped his chin thoughtfully. His smile was soft and nostalgic. "It's like a match of chess, I suppose. It was always one of her favorite pastimes." 

"A _game_?!" Vaggie shrieked. 

Charlie watched the two bicker back and forth with worry. Her dad had warned her about this, about what Countess's return could mean.

A competition between two powerful entities? This couldn't end well. And not in the 'mass destruction of the world as we know it' kind of way. Countess was smart and cunning. She knew how people worked, what made them tick. It was why, even past her death, tales of her political reign still floated around in Hell. She had been influential enough in the living world for her legacy to live on even in the darkest corners of Hell. 

If Alastor lost this game...well, Charlie didn't know what it would mean. At this point, the only reason the hotel was still around was because of him. If Alastor left for some reason, then they would be in big trouble. _Big_ trouble. 

Charlie covered her face with her hands and wanted to scream. This wasn't at all how she imagined it. She had dreams of demons from all over Hell, clammering to enter her hotel and become something better. But no one wanted to be better. Everyone was content with being angry, hateful, and sad. They _liked_ being this way. 

"My dear!" Alastor cheered, twirling his staff ardently and pulling Vaggie into a side hug. "You have absolutely nothing to fret about! I intend to win this little game of hers. I've won it before." 

"Yeah?" Vaggie challenged, squeezing herself from his grip. "What happens when you don't?" 

"Oh, I'll win. I've never been defeated before." He said simply, walking with a prance in his step over to Charlie. "And what has you so anxious, darling Charlie?" 

Charlie sighed quietly, taking a seat in one of the lobby sofas. "I don't know, Al. It's been a struggle, you know? Keeping this hotel afloat. I'm starting to wonder if it's worth it anymore. And now this _thing_ you've started with Countess? This could ruin the hotel for good. If we lose you--"

"You needn't worry about me, princess! Countess may be powerful, but I know her weakness. She won't best me." 

"I don't want either of you to get hurt. Okay?"

Alastor leaned his tall body so that he was eye to eye with Charlie. She fell deep into those dark, crimson eyes. They held confidence, confidence in her and himself, but they also held something else. It was that same look he had when Countess first arrived at the hotel. Charlie still couldn't quite place what it was. But whatever it was, it was complicated. 

"Enough about Countess!" Alastor exclaimed with glee, plopping down regally beside her. "Now, what are these doubts you say you have?" 

Vaggie took a seat on the other side of Charlie, pulling her into a possessive hug. Her glare sent daggers. Alastor haughtily leaned back.

"I'm afraid people will never want to change," Charlie said. "This hotel runs on service. If there are no demons to service, how will we ever survive?" 

"We'll find a way, Charlie," Vaggie reassured, rubbing her shoulder affectionately. 

"But no one wants to give it a chance!" 

"You must give them a reason," A new voice inputted. 

The threesome looked behind the couch with astonishment. 

Standing in the shadow of the door was none other than Countess. Her wings expanding in and out, slightly fanning her flawlessly pinned hair. She was fiddling with a small, sparkling flame. It danced across her fingertips indolently and she looked up. 

"I'm great at persuading others," She stated, flicking her fingers and extinguishing the flame. "It's what I do."

"Would you do it?" Charlie questioned, hope rising in her voice. "Would you help us?" 

"Of course," She smirked, folding her wings in. "For a price."

"We'll pay you anything--"

"No, not that kind of payment." Countess sauntered over, her heels clicking on the floor. She looked straight at Alastor, her eyes narrowing. "I make the rules."

"What?" Vaggie asked, fear edging her voice. 

"I make the rules, Alastor, and you have to abide by them."

"And what if I don't?" He taunted, placing his pointed chin on his claws. 

" _Game over._ " She lowered her head, a fire burning in her eyes. "And I _win_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you all! Don't forget to leave a kudos and a comment! <3 Have a wonderful day!


	5. Nothing Ever Comes For Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***
> 
> "It was all a lie." Barely a whisper but loud as a roar.
> 
> The hallway trembled. 
> 
> "Nothing ever comes for free ." 
> 
> Countess fell to her knees, the sorrow overtaking her and wracking her body with sobs. 
> 
> "Nothing ever comes for free." 
> 
> ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this?! Another chapter?! Holy crap! 
> 
> I honestly can't thank you guys enough for reading this story. Even if it is only about forty-ish kudos, they all mean the world to me. I cherish every one of my readers and always want to hear your thoughts! I live off of your opinions and I'm glad to hear most of you are enjoying the book so far! We'll be getting into some more hotel business soon and more drama, of course. 
> 
> This chapter does have a flashback but it is labeled so no one gets confused. We get to dive a little deeper into Alastor and Countess's past. Ooh! 
> 
> I love you all and hope you like the chapter!

**1952, Hell, Countess's Estate**

It was a chilly evening, which was rare in Hell. Countess let the breeze ruffle her hair and redden her cheeks. The wind pulled at her folded wings as if begging for a release. 

Ah, how she loved the night. Even in Hell, it was gorgeous. It was when the creatures of the dark came out to play. She could hear the crickets in the distance and feel the life in her bones. 

She wished it would snow. She remembered winter in England quite fondly. Countess missed it. The fluffy white flakes would fall from the grey overcast, covering the ground in a sparkling powder that had to be from somewhere magical. Thousands of twinkling lights adorned the buildings, and the smell of cider drifted through the frosty city. Winter in England was magical. Oh, how she yearned for it so. 

Those were the good memories, the ones that she often forgot. Countess wished she wouldn't. Those were some of the best moments of her life, but they faded with each passing day. Soon, they would be gone. Distant times. 

"I thought I might find you here," A voice filled with radio static commented. Alastor emerged from the shadows, his staff in hand, and glee in his step. "It's your favorite place to be." 

"One of my favorites." 

"Hmm," Alastor hummed, peeking around her shoulder and gazing out beyond her. "And the others?"

"My home. In the living world. I miss it more and more every day." 

"I never found London to be pleasant. Always gray and dreary, covered in thick smog."

"Well, when you look at it that way, anything can be ugly. The countryside around London was beautiful. I always thought the colors and happenings in Louisiana to be too chaotic."

Alastor perked up. "You've been there?" 

"Once or twice. It was for a political meeting. I not only got to meet the influential in England but also in America as well. It was quite the experience." 

"I can imagine," Alastor tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Did you ever happen to arrive near 1926?"

"I think I was about six at that time so, no."

"Such a shame, that was the highlight of my career." Alastor sighed happily, reminiscing. 

"Of what? Your show or your murders?"

"Both. I enjoyed both."

"You're sick," Countess scoffed, a playful banter. 

"Naturally! But you can't tell me you didn't find some entertainment in _your_ experimental ventures?" Alastor questioned, his eyes penetrating. 

"No, I did it for _her_ ," Countess sneered, becoming uncomfortable. "It was never for my satisfaction." 

"Did it for who, darling?" 

Countess looked away quickly, knowing she had said too much. Now Alastor would never let this go. He would bother her until she told him the truth. It was something that infuriated her about him. His constant need to be in _everyone's_ business. Countess was used to it, though. It's not like meddlesome politicians didn't stick their noses where they didn't belong. She had a far easier tactic to rid them of their peskiness. 

_Murder_. 

"Someone." She replied vaguely.

"I figured that, dear," He said indignantly. "I asked _who_."

"It's personal." 

"Isn't everything?"

"I barely know you. How do I know I can trust you if you only share _one_ thing with me about your living life?" Countess snapped, her insatiable temper boiling in the pit of her stomach. 

"Fair enough," Alastor responded candidly. "Very, well, you win this inescapable raillery. I will tell you something I've never told anyone else." 

"Oh?" 

"In exchange, of course, for information about you. It must be a mutual trade." Alastor rested his full weight against the balcony rail. 

"As expected. Nothing ever comes free with you."

"Perceptive!" Alastor exclaimed whimsically, releasing a low chuckle. "I enjoy your company. Such an interesting companion."

"My thoughts are returned likewise, but you must _stop_ delaying the inevitable! You promised me a secret! Come on now, out with it!"

"Alright, alright," Alastor said with mirth dancing behind his features. But all too sudden, his expression became pained and regretful. It was as if he was having second thoughts. Surely, he didn't think she would use whatever he said against him? Countess may be cunning and ruthless when it came to gaining power, but she kept her friends close. If they told her something they never told anyone else, it never left her lips. A secret is a secret for a reason, it should remain one until it can no longer be classified as confidential. 

"I-I used to be...perhaps still am, afraid of..." He stumbled over his words, fighting with himself. "I have a fear of..." 

Countess didn't push him, just politely waited for him to collect his nerves. 

She had never seen Alastor like this. Vulnerable and nervous. He was always chipper, it seemed. The sanguine type and wasn't one to conceal his abilities. He didn't show any signs of fear or discomfort. He was always smiling, never allowing his enemies the pleasure of his panic or distress. It was something she both admired and despised about him. She could never study his emotions, where she felt like an open book. Easy to read. 

"Dogs. I don't like dogs." He took a deep breath, releasing his tension, and returning to his old self. "There! I have divulged a personal revelation! I now require one from you."

Countess thought for a moment. He had given her something so private that she felt she couldn't quite possibly achieve the same intimacy. But the thought was exhilarating. Sharing her deepest, darkest fears with a man she hardly knew and hardly trusted. It was the thrill of adrenaline, the same feeling she had during a debate. It was addicting and, oh, how she missed it. 

"I was..." She stopped herself. 

No, she shouldn't say this. It was degradable, to say the least, embarrassing. But...

_He felt the same way and trusted me. Me. Of all the demons in Hell, he entrusted me with one of his most notable insecurities. I need to do the same. Repay the favor. Yes. Just say it, Glenda. Just say it. SAY IT._

_"_ I'm an orphan!" She blurted out, squeezing her eyes shut and preparing for the laughter and the ridicule. But it never came. Instead, she was left holding her breath and looking a fool frozen in fear. 

"You act as if this is an issue?" Alastor questioned, head tilting with curiosity. 

"Is it not?" Countess placed her elbows on the rail, placing her cheeks on her palms. "Back in England, to be an orphan, and to be deprived was repulsive. Those people were spit at and damned because they couldn't pay for a home or a loaf of bread. I didn't want to be known as the 'poor girl', the 'dirty girl', the 'orphan girl'. I wanted to grow into the world without those criticisms so, I never told anyone. Until you..."

"Did you ever figure out why?" 

Countess shook her head sadly. "No, but the orphanage told me it was because I was a freak. A pest that needed to be exterminated so, my parents gave me up." She shrugged wearily. "I didn't care much. I never let it bother me. If my parents didn't love me enough to keep me, then they didn't deserve to be loved back. Simple as that."

"Tragic," Alastor remarked with melancholy. 

"Not really. It never stopped me. Conceivably, it gave me the motivation I needed to reach the top." 

"I don't believe I heard of you before I died. Your political career seems so glorious. I would've thought I'd have known your name." 

"I became popular in the later thirties. The highlight of my career stretched from 1938 to 1945. The best of days." Countess recounted impartially. 

"I'm assuming Countess isn't your real name." 

"It's not. That's what the denizens of Hell started to name me after I defeated countless overlords. I accepted it. It was better than my actual name."

"What is your real name? You know mine."

"Mmm, it's stupid." 

Alastor chortled, grabbing Countess's shoulders and pulling her in close. Too close. 

"Nonsense! I'm sure it's beautiful! I would love to know. After all, we are friends." 

A chord was struck within her. 

_Friends?_

"Glenda," Countess said meekly. "My name is Glenda."

"Does it mean something?"

"Yes," Countess giggled happily. "It's ironic, though."

"Do tell me!" 

"It means holy and pure." 

Alastor released a hearty, contagious laugh. Countess couldn't help but snicker along with him until tears pooled in the corner of her eyes and her tummy started to ache. 

It was nice being able to sit next to someone and console with them. It felt safe, and it felt good to be wanted by someone. She had become accustomed to everyone in Hell being in it for the power. They always wanted something out of a relationship and it was tiring.

But facing the golden sunrise that bathed Hell in a sort of peaceful glow and feeling the warmth of Alastor's body against her own... created a blossoming in her chest. A kind of feeling she hadn't felt in ages and perhaps her whole life.

Pure, uncultured, unashamed, _adoration_.

And she cherished every moment she had with him. Held tightly in his arms. As if everything wasn't so bad and they weren't in Hell. Nothing could be closer to Heaven. 

***

**Present Day, Hell, Countess's Estate**

"So.."

Her voice was dark, mirroring the gloom that followed her like a shadow. Her crimson lips caressed over her clawed fingertips, and the ozone buzzed with a ghoulish static. The very earth thrummed with loneliness, an aching gap that only seemed to grow. It pulsated in her metaphorical heart.

The taste of ash was still new on her tongue and the blackened hallway shivered with her weight. The lights flickered, an ominous breeze sending whistles. 

Her fists clenched as the trauma overtook her. The pang of a bullet, the sound of tears, the taste of blood, and the ripping of the heart. It ached, it burned. 

But this room reminded her not to fall, not to be tricked again, not to trust _him_. Because this is what happened when she threw her heart away, hoping to receive something in return.

A constant reminder she wore like a badge. It's how she never lost her way, why she pressed on. 

"It was all a lie." Barely a whisper but loud as a roar.

The hallway trembled. 

"Nothing ever comes for _free_ " 

Countess fell to her knees, the sorrow overtaking her and wracking her body with sobs. 

" _Nothing_ _ever comes for free."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo! 
> 
> Thanks as always for reading! Don't forget to leave a kudos and a comment, I appreciate every single one! I'll answer questions you guys have or just overall comments. I like constructive criticism and want to see what you all think! 
> 
> Have a lovely day and I'll see you all at the next chapter! <3


	6. Missing Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***
> 
> "The hell?!" She gasped, trying and failing once again to stand. Rudy's pointed glare immediately shot down the table at Alastor. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"
> 
> "I'm not doing anything," He said innocently. "It seems you're having some trouble, though." 
> 
> Vaggie got up quickly and went over to help Rudy. "Alastor, whatever you're doing, you need to stop it. Right. Now."
> 
> ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Another chapter! Whoo~
> 
> I hope you all like it!

"So...reality altering, huh?"

"I beg your pardon?"

Countess shuffled papers around her new desk, handing some empty envelopes to Rudy's outstretched paws. Angel Dust leaned in a dark corner, watching her every move. Countess did not know why Charlie had insisted on him coming. After all, she was only clearing out a new workspace. 

It wasn't the biggest of rooms, Alastor had taken the only real office in the hotel. Instead, she was left with what probably used to be a coat closet. She had brought the papers over from her estate, organizing the alphabetically with Rudy's help. Angel never did anything, though, only standing in that corner and keeping his distance. 

She wondered if he was afraid of her. 

He had every right to be.

"You can control reality and shit, right?" 

"In a way," She said, pulling open a drawer and frowning. Cobwebs adorned the inside so, she shut it. She'd have to clean that out later. 

"Then I don't understand how Al beat ya. Makes no damn sense." 

"It's not as simple as you think," Countess remarked, reaching for another drawer which was devoid of webs. Just covered in a thin layer of dust. "I can't alter reality whenever I feel like it. Those powers are...temperamental. They only work when they want to. I have no control over the timing."

"But ya destroyed about a hundred Overlords in a matter o' weeks!" Angel blurted. "I think ya gotta be hella powerful to do that."

"You exaggerate greatly. I did not destroy hundreds. Maybe about three or four. I was emotional. Rudy thinks my reality powers depend on how emotionally stressed I am. Which would make sense." Countess placed the papers in the empty drawer, sneezing as a cloud of dust erupted and tickled her nose. 

"So, you couldn't turn that chair into a dog?"

"That's not how it works." Countess snorted, bemused at his ignorance. 

"Then how does it work? Because you've lost me." 

"Well, that is how it works, I suppose. I don't use it for that."

"What do ya use it for?"

"Cancelling an enemy's attack or altering the landscape around them. If you control the environment, you control the battle. It's as easy as that." Countess sighed impatiently, sitting down in her plushy chair as Rudy set up a dial phone. She still hadn't gotten used to the idea of these wireless phones Charlie carried around. She couldn't understand the apps, she got lost every time she tried to make a phone call. It was a curious machine. Why call it a phone if it is not used primarily for communication? 

"Whoa," Angel Dust whistled. "So, you could turn a wall into a puppy?"

Countess chuckled softly, and Rudy rolled her eyes. 

"No. What I do is I can make it move. For example, I can reverse gravity. The ceiling becomes the floor, and the floor becomes the ceiling. Or I can make the ground tilt and roll like waves on an ocean. One of my favorites. It flusters everyone." 

"That sounds cool. But I still don't get how Alastor could beat you. He's super powerful and all, but from what I've seen, you could defeat him easy peasy." 

"Just how much of his power _have_ you seen?" Countess asked. "You probably haven't even seen a fraction of it." 

"Well, he totally kicked Sir Pentious's ass with these weird tentacle things." 

"Alastor can do many things. There are even abilities I haven't seen him use. He was always surprising me while I seemed so predictable." 

"Is that how he beat you?"

Countess's mood clouded quickly. "No. I--"

"Dinner is ready!" Charlie's head poked in from the outside, her luscious blonde hair falling in gorgeous waves over her shoulder. "Angel," She scolded lightly. "Did you help at all?"

"Get off my tits, lady. I helped a bit."

Charlie sent a doubtful look towards Countess. "Did he really?"

"He distracted me well," Countess said playfully. Angel looked betrayed. 

"Move, mates, I'm hungry as a dingo in the wintertime." Rudy said, shoving past Charlie and out into the hallway. 

"Do you even _have_ winter in Australia?!" 

"Piss off, insect." 

"Hey!" Angel interjected, hurrying out the door to catch up to Rudy. "I'm not an insect! I'll have ya know that I.."

The argument faded from earshot, and Countess blinked once, then twice before she began to snicker. Charlie suppressed a laugh, gesturing for Countess to follow her out.

The dining hall wasn't too far away from her new office. It was a few lefts and a right down the winding hallways, and the smell of food was welcoming. Something sweet and cinnamony drifted in from the dining room, and she breathed happily. 

"Do I smell apple cider?" Countess asked, entering the expansive room. Her voice echoed against the mahogany walls. The dining room was big. Not as big as her own but still relatively large. A long table adorned with delicious smelling foods sat directly in the middle. Tall candlesticks flickered in the dimly lit room, and soft music was playing nearby. 

"Yes!" Alastor said, entering from the kitchen with a steaming mug. "I remembered it was your favorite so, I figured I'd make some."

Countess scowled, her pleasant demeanor fading. "I'll politely decline, then."

"Come now," Alastor tutted, placing the mug at an empty seat. "I made it just for you! Exactly the way you like it! It's not like I'd poison it!" He laughed wildly, and an unsettling smirk decorating that smug face of his. 

"I wouldn't put it past you," Countess said, sitting down as far away from the seat he'd chosen as possible as everyone else found their spots. 

Husk sat in that seat, and Alastor's smile grew. He set the cider aside, making his way down the table and--

Oh, lord, no. 

He sat right _next_ to her. 

_That bastard!_ Countess thought bitterly. _He knew I wouldn't sit there. He made me move closer to his chosen seat on purpose! Most likely for tortuous reasons._

Countess looked pleadingly at Rudy, who had taken notice of her current situation. Rudy understood immediately and got to stand up, ready to trade spots. Except, she couldn't. Rudy tugged at the seat, but she remained stuck to it. 

"The hell?!" She gasped, trying and failing once again to stand. Rudy's pointed glare immediately shot down the table at Alastor. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

"I'm not doing anything," He said innocently. "It seems you're having some trouble, though." 

Vaggie got up quickly and went over to help Rudy. "Alastor, whatever you're doing, you need to stop it. _Right. Now._ Its obvious Countess doesn't want to sit next to you so, just let her move."

"Now, now, we've chosen our seats! It'd be rude to get up now. Why dinner hasn't even been served yet!" 

"Alastor..." Charlie warned from the other end of the table. "Please?"

"Fine," He replied irritably, snapping his long, thin fingers. Rudy flew from the chair into Vaggie's arms. "Since you asked so politely." 

Rudy stomped over to Countess, never once breaking eye contact with Alastor before trading seats. She flipped him off and then reached for gravy. 

Countess had a feeling this was going to be a long dinner... 

Dinner's ending was an answer to an unspoken prayer. It had gone by silently with tension thick in the air. Alastor would _not_ stop staring at Countess, and he knew it bothered her. That's why he did it. 

He seemed to find great pleasure in seeing her squirm and dammit if only she could just ignore the bastard. But he was a hard demon to ignore. He practically directed all attention to himself. He was a performer. It's what they did. 

Countess returned home shortly afterward, promising to return early in the morning to continue her work. She already had a list of possible residents for the hotel. It was going to be a breeze at first, but as the easy pickings ran out, things would get harder. Countess had a strategy, though. She knew how to do this type of work. It's what she lived for. Well, what she _had_ lived for. 

It wasn't until they were back in the safety of the estate that Rudy chose to speak.

"You shouldn't let him get to you. It's why he continues to bother you. He knows it pisses you off." She said, throwing herself on one of the sofas with a tired grumble. 

"I know that," Countess snapped. "It's difficult, though. He _has_ to make himself as apparent as possible. He knows me too well. He knows how to get under my skin."

"Then you gotta be tougher." 

Countess growled quietly. "I'm trying."

"Trying isn't good enough," Rudy accused, rolling over on the couch to look Countess in the eye. "You have to ignore him, or he'll never leave you alone. You have to prove to him that you won't break a second time. The moment he sees that, he'll slowly lose interest."

"And if he doesn't?"

"Then, I guess he still finds you fascinating. I don't know why he won't just leave you in peace. It's as if he's still trying to figure something out. What he's trying to find, I don't know, but he seems more interested than ever with you. Almost like he's obsessed."

"I wish I'd never answered the door that day," Countess's voice cracked as she fell to her knees. "I regret that day more than my death. I _hate_ him."

Rudy knelled beside Countess and pulled her close against her tiny body. "Hey, it'll be alright...I think. If he pulls a fast one, I'll just--"

"Kick him in the shins?"

"No, the face," Rudy grinned savagely. "I want to see how smug he looks with a broken nose." 

"Oh my god!" Countess laughed uncontrollably. "Please, do that someday, and make sure I'm there to watch!" 

"As long as it makes you happy." Rudy said, hopefully. "Does it make you happy?" 

Countess paused, her breath catching in her throat. Why was she hesitating? Defeating Alastor and taking revenge was what she wanted, right? It's what has eaten at her for the past seventy years. Then why did it make her feel so hollow inside? Why did it feel like she was missing something important?"

Did she really want to destroy Alastor?

Or did she just want _him_ back? 

No, she hated him. That was that.

But that hole in her heart? She yearned to fill it. 

She would fill it with his screams. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Don't forget to leave a comment and a kudos, if you want. Comments help remind me that you're still around and want to see more! I'll answer any non-spoiler related questions. The next chapter will be interesting. We'll get to see more Countess in action and get a little more insight into that one big question: What exactly did Alastor do to defeat Countess? 
> 
> I am excited to reveal more! 
> 
> Have a wonderful day! <3


	7. The Truth Comes Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***
> 
> "Alright then!" Countess bellowed. The room began to tremble but not because of the explosions outside. Her wrath frothed over the circumference of the room and her eyes lit like a flame. Hardened scales began to form on her neck, cheeks, and arms. Her tail whipped dangerously behind her as if anxiously toying for the chance to wrap it around Alastor's throat and squeeze the air out of him. "You want the full answer?! THEN YOU CAN HAVE IT!"
> 
> Tears began to well up despite her attempts to control them. Her anger morphed into immeasurable pain and grief. She wailed out, hoping her cries would compel whatever heart was left in that dastardly, red-dressed demon.
> 
> "The night you betrayed me..."
> 
> ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here. It. Is! The question is finally answered! The truth is finally revealed! 
> 
> It was really hard for me to get this chapter out slightly on time. Business gets to us all. Am I right? 
> 
> Well! Enough of my pointless chatter! On with the show! Hope you brought your popcorn.

The day began rather explosively. The earth would tremble with unfathomable force, and the very foundation shudders with a lonely creak. Countess found it difficult to ignore these spontaneous explosions, primarily since it effortlessly scattered her papers over the ground. Rudy particularly loathed it. The constant pounding would knock her off her feet and make her drop whatever she was carrying. Be it cider or pens, the concussive forces would always dislodge them from her paws. 

At one point, Countess thought about going outside to cease whatever madness was ensuing. She was dangerously curious about what was happening out on the streets. No one ever mentioned it in the hotel. They all just went about their happy business, whatever that business may entail. 

Alastor made it his personal mission to bother Countess at any time he could. Whether it be a brief visit to her office, an unmistakable scoot across the couch, or an excruciatingly loud 'hello' that echoed across the commons. She tried to ignore him and made a noble effort too, but Alastor wasn't someone one could simply overlook. He was tall, lanky, and _bright bloody red_. When he walked into a room, it practically hummed with static. He made every entrance as dramatic as possible, and all of it was obnoxiously directed at Countess.

She had thought about letting Rudy deal with him a few times, but decided against it. The last thing Charlie needed in her hotel was another fight. Earlier that morning, Angel Dust had made quite the scene. He and Vaggie had a very long and long discussion about showers and hot water. Apparently, the hotel was running on an extremely low budget and Angel took all the hot water. Not only did that leave everyone else a freezing shower, but it also cost them more money. 

She tried to make use of her somewhat private space. The silence calmed her and gave her reprieve from Alastor's countless assaults. Countess found reprieve in her work and looked forward to finally being able to walk around recruiting demons. Or perhaps, she should do a public speech in front of everyone. Considering how horribly Charlie's marketing went, maybe a new impression would do them some good. She couldn't quite decide between the speech or just finding the demons marked on her list. 

Rudy had helped her find easy targets. There were rumors on the streets about demons who were unhappy with their life in Hell. The ones that hid in the shadows and made their existence unknown. They would be the first customers and others would soon follow. Especially if it worked and hopefully, it would. 

There was a knock at her door. 

"Come in," She called, assuming the guest was Rudy with more information.

Instead, to her immediate displeasure, Alastor opened the door and walked through. His staff tapped rhythmically on the ground as he entered. He didn't say anything and took a seat in one of her chairs. She lifted her eyes from her paperwork, watching him cautiously. This was the first time all day he'd been quiet around her. He only sat there, staring at the wall with an unreadable expression on his face. After a few seconds of silence, Countess's patience ran thin. She placed her paperwork aside and decided to cut to the chase. 

"What is it you want, Alastor? Surely you didn't come into my office to merely stare at my walls?" 

"No!" He said, his chipper mood returning. His eyes met hers, still annoyingly obscure. "I came in here to talk!" 

"I've said everything I need to. What more is there left to speak about?" 

Alastor continued on, completely ignoring her. "I've thought about that night a lot." 

"Oh? The night you betrayed me? That night? I try not to think about it." Countess replied, her tone becoming waspish. 

Once again, he pretended not to hear her comment. "I still cannot find any reason for you to hate me! I simply cannot understand what went wrong. I see it as all overlords see it. We overthrow each other but come back for more. Am I missing something?"

"Yes. You're missing a substantial amount of context. For instance, everything that happened _before_ that. That is also very important." Countess remarked unkindly, wishing she didn't let him in. 

"Ah, yes. Good times! Remember when I helped you learn how to fly?"

Countess rolled her eyes, suppressing the giddy emotions that memory provoked. She would not show him how much she treasured those moments. He didn't deserve to. Not after he tainted them with betrayal. 

"Yes, in surprising detail. You pushed me off a cliff multiple times."

He laughed heartily. "Of course! It's what mother birds do with their young. I figured it'd work on you as well." 

"Sure," Countess said, reaching for her papers, hoping it would save her from the conversation. "As much as I enjoy our little reminiscing, I'll have to ask you to leave. I have a lot of work to do."

"Come now, darling! I still haven't gotten an answer from you!" Alastor said, rising from his seat to take the paper from her hands. 

"Well, what answer do you want? I'll give you any answer you want if you _leave me alone._ " She snarled, temper boiling over. 

"I want the truth, dear Countess," Alastor said. "Quite frankly, I find it fascinating. I find _you_ fascinating."

"As creepy as that sounds, I expect nothing less from you. You only stick around for something that entertains you and when it doesn't anymore..." Her eyes narrowed, a spark drifting in the stale air. Her pupils shrank and her wings snapped into existence, making the room seem much smaller than it already was. Her claws dug into the wood, her rage threatening to burst. "You destroy it."

"My! I truly forget how perceptive you are!" He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, the gears turning in his head. "If you're wondering if we were ever truly friends, my answer is, yes! We absolutely were! I enjoyed your company."

"Oh, that's fabulous, thank you. It makes me feel _so_ much better." Countess growled, sarcasm dripping from her voice. 

"It should, shouldn't it. Although, I am detecting a slight hint of resentment in that lonely voice of yours. So tell me, how _do_ you feel? I'm quite curious."

"I've told you before." 

"I recall."

"Then you don't need to hear it again."

Alastor hummed impatiently, the ozone beginning to hum with the unmistakable sound of radio static. 

"I have a theory."

"Go ahead. Test it." Countess inquired, her arms folding over her chest. 

"Is it because you and I were friends that it was so hard for you? Considering it's happened before. That _is_ how you died if my memory serves me well. Betrayed and killed by your only friend. Such a shame."

"Oh really? From what I remember, your death was much more _embarrassing._ " Countess shot back.

Alastor's eyes darkened, and the room became suffocatingly tense. His smile never faltered, that unsurpassable mask of mirth. "Let's not bring up my death into the conversation. We're talking about you."

"Well, then. As for your theory, you are somewhat correct."

"Oh, wonderful!" 

"But it goes so much deeper than that."

"Do tell~"

Countess pushed him off her desk, standing up. "I think I'll save it for another day."

"Oh, no, no, no," Alastor said, blocking her path. His voice pitched low and a menacing crackling began to bounce off the walls. "I want to hear it now. I didn't come here for vague answers. And you know well that I always get what I want."

"Alright then!" Countess bellowed. The room began to tremble but not because of the explosions outside. Her wrath frothed over the circumference of the room and her eyes lit like a flame. Hardened scales began to form on her neck, cheeks, and arms. Her tail whipped dangerously behind her as if anxiously toying for the chance to wrap it around Alastor's throat and squeeze the air out of him. "You want the full answer?! THEN YOU CAN HAVE IT!"

Tears began to well up despite her attempts to control them. Her anger morphed into immeasurable pain and grief. She wailed out, hoping her cries would compel whatever heart was left in that dastardly, red-dressed demon.

"The night you betrayed me..." God, she couldn't say it. She folded in on herself, covering her face with her hands. 

Her tears soaked her fingers and slithered through the cracks. They dotted her paperwork with dark splotches and her sorrow overwhelmed her. How could she have been so stupid all those years ago? He never cared about her. He didn't care about anyone. When she no longer became interesting, he threw her away like a broken record. He didn't deserve to know how much he hurt her. He deserved to burn in the fires of her wrath. 

But...she remembered the gentleness of his touch. A touch he saved specifically for her. The look in his eyes that he only revealed for her alone to see. The songs he would write for her, as awful as they were at first, the meaning behind them was irreplaceable. She hadn't just been his murder buddy. Someone he used as leverage in a fight. No. They had laughed together, plotted together, overthrew together, sang together, and shared secrets with each other that no one else had ever heard.

Alastor didn't deserve to know how much it hurt. How much those late nights had meant. The ones where they sat together by the fire. He with his coffee and her with her cider. Those moments had meant so much to her. So that's why...why she began to...

"Alastor..." Her voice came out shattered and broken. A weakness plaguing her heart. She shouldn't be this vulnerable around him. She was falling back into his trap. "To me, you weren't just a friend. You were more than that. Around you, I had never felt that way before. It was so ancient and buried I thought I would never experience it but..."

She looked up through her blurry eyes, the rivers of her tears crested down her pink cheeks gently.

Alastor's expression looked torn. His smile was strained and his eyes were worried as he awaited her answer. That answer he so longed for but dreaded all the same. He'd known it all along but hoped it wasn't true. 

"I _loved_ you."

Alastor stopped breathing, his eyes widening in panic. She could finally read his expression... 

Pure. Absolute. _Terror_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tee hee. A little bit of a cliff hanger. The next chapter is in Alastor's POV! It'll be interesting to write from his perspective but we'll get to see a little better what's churning in his head. 
> 
> Don't forget to leave a kudos and a comment! They keep me motivated and I love hearing from my readers! I will answer as many questions as I can that aren't spoiler related. I'm a talker so...you might get something out of me. Who knows. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed the chapter and I'll see you Friday! <3
> 
> P.S.  
> Sorry if I forgot to mention but updates are now going to be every other day! Mostly Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays! If I get a little too ambitious, I might give out an extra update over the weekend! Stay tuned! The next chapter will be a  
> bumpy ride.


	8. Matters of the Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***
> 
> Alastor hesitated. Should he ask? Even he didn't know if he wanted the answer, but if wanted to rekindle his friendship with Countess, then he needed to take this next step. He would do it, of course, he could do anything. It would just be very, very uncomfortable.
> 
> But for his dear friend Glenda, he would do anything. 
> 
> ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!! LATE AGAIN! I'm so sorry everyone! This week has been super busy and I've just lost track of time! Not to mention writing Alastor was harder than I imagined. I restarted this chapter so many times, you have no idea. 
> 
> Warning for cussing because Angel is in it. Legally obligated to say that. I know it's Hazbin Hotel, but I still want to give everyone the courtesy of a warning just in case! 
> 
> Anyway, here it is! Hope it's good and you all like it!

_No_. 

_No._

_It couldn't be._

Alastor couldn't breathe. For the first time in his after-life, he didn't know what to say. He felt glued to the spot, rendered utterly helpless by the three words Countess had just spoken. 

Fear had him frozen. He _was_ fear. Demons quivered with the whisper of his name and cowered at his presence. Yet, here he was, paralyzed. 

She stared up at him, her eyes bloodshot and puffy, her mascara running down her pink cheeks, an ugly sight to behold. Once again, she had poured her heart onto him, and now, he was drowning. Drowning in her gaze and suffocating in her sorrow. Her emotion was so raw and sincere that he couldn't possibly fathom it. 

So, he steeled himself to walk out the door.

It was the hardest thing he's ever had to do. Walk out that door. Her whispers turned into sobs, and she begged him not to leave her. She called him many awful names. But he kept going, his smile threatening to crack into his solemn demeanor. So, he opened that door and stepped out. 

In a flash of red, he was in the safety of his quarters. He released a breath he'd been holding and slid down the wall of his bedroom.

 _Dear lord!_ He thought with relief. _Freedom. At last._

He slowly gained his footing, recollecting himself so he could ponder all that had happened. 

It was truly peculiar and quite disturbing that she had fallen in love with him. She was entertaining from the start, oh yes, but this just added to his curiosity. 

What on earth had caused someone of her standard to love someone like him? Very odd, indeed.

It honestly frightened him. He knew nothing about love and did nothing to provoke it in others, no matter how impossible it seemed. So when Countess had admitted that she loved him, it surprised him. He hadn't meant to get that close to her. It was a mistake that weighed heavily on his shoulders. A dangerous mistake he should've avoided. 

Sure, he'd shown compassion towards her, but he showed affection to everyone. He was, by nature, a touchy person but never liked to be touched himself. Perhaps, that's what had started it all. When he'd started to let her touch him. It had been an accident, at first, just a simple touch on his shoulder. It hadn't bothered him, though, and soon after it turned into a regular. She would hug him and passionately touch him often. Alastor had never thought anything of it because it didn't upset him when she did it. 

Eventually, though, if his memory served him right...the touching had turned into something different. They would hold hands often, notably when she was sad. He had found that physical touch calmed her down so, that's what he defaulted to every time she lost her temper. A gentle brush of the hand usually got her to cool off. 

Alastor never dreamt it would blossom into something as compelling as this. 

Love? 

It couldn't possibly be true. Who could love a monster like him? He'd murdered countless souls and eaten them on occasion too. He was the closest to the devil that anyone could get without being Lucifer himself. He was ruthless and cared for none but himself. 

But due to recent events, maybe that wasn't true anymore. When he first saw Countess fling those hotel doors open, he'd felt joy. Exhilarating joy at the sight of his old friend. He truly enjoyed her friendship in the good ol' days. She was spunky but charming. She was polite but wasn't a pushover. She was a nearly perfect balance of all things practical. But what made her interesting to him at first, was her power. 

Never before had anyone seen strength of that magnitude and so crudely used at that. It was Lucifer who had first drawn his attention towards the mysterious dragon-like demoness. 

He remembered it fondly. 

Her dress was quite lovely. She was laced with jewels, and her makeup was perfect in every way. She was the epitome of grace and beauty. Any man would swoon over her appearance, but not him. He had never found those things appealing. An anomaly. He was a stranger to the world of romantics, and he intended to be for a very long time to come. It wasn't her attire that had caught Alastor's attention. It was because she was standing alone. 

Throughout the entire party of which he attended, and she hosted, Countess never once mingled with the other demons. She brooded from afar, eyeing her competition with scrutiny as if trying to find their weaknesses. 

Lucifer had caught Alastor's watchful eye and gave him useful information.

Four points began his fascination.

One, Countess hardly ever left her home. She was never seen on the streets, and if she was, it was the passing of her shadow. 

Two, the alarming rate at which she climbed the ranks. Some called her cruel and malicious, but the demon he saw shyly sulking in the corner was far from that. So, that meant her ascension to power was of a different cause. 

Three, her past. Countess had been an extremely successful politician when she was alive. The first woman--besides the queen--to be so high up in the rigorous English hierarchy. She was second to the queen, which was unheard of. Mainly in a time where women were thought to be inferior. The revolutionized age of women was just being born but she had somehow found a way to fight to the top. 

Fourth, her power and what Lucifer had specifically said about it.

He remembered it clearly. 

"I've never seen anything like it," the King of Hell had said. "That much power but no crave for it. Most of the overlords in this ballroom crave domination, but she doesn't. She only goes about her business. Of course, she disposes of whoever gets in her way, but it isn't for the usual reason. Perhaps, it's because it's all she knows how to do. Conquer and impress others. That's all politicians are, anyway. But I don't think I've seen a demon as strong as her. It would surprise me if anyone ever overthrew her." 

And the challenge had been accepted.

Alastor vowed that day he would defeat Countess, and that's what he did. He used her weaknesses against her and wormed his way into her heart. But he hadn't meant to go so deep that she would love him. Then again, Alastor wasn't an expert on the plots concerning the heart. 

But he knew someone who was.

He blinked his eyes once, and he was suddenly not in his room anymore. He cackled wickedly as his target jumped in surprise. 

Angel Dust gasped sharply and proceeded to scowl deeply.

"What the _fuck_ , Al?!" Angel cursed loudly. "You scared the livin' shit outta me! You can't just teleport into my room without warnin'! What do ya want?!" 

"I require love advice!" Alastor replied chipperly, making himself acquainted with Angel's room. What an _odd_ contraption he had lying on his dresser...

"Whoa, whoa, slow down, sucker," Angel said, wedging himself between Alastor and his dresser. " _Love_ advice? And here I thought you were against all that stuff."

"Not against! I just can't comprehend it." Alastor answered ruefully. 

"Well, I'm not really the best expert on that subject either."

"Why not? I assumed merely because of your extremely active sex life! You don't hide it very well."

"It's how I make money, ya judgey asshole!" Angel huffed, crossing his four arms. "And also, I've only loved once and it wasn't the best thing to happen to me. You'd be better off asking Vaggie." 

"Is she educated concerning the matters of the heart?"

Angel shrugged nonchalantly. "Dunno. Maybe you should ask." 

"Wonderful idea, my four-armed fellow!"

Alastor snapped his fingers, transporting him in front of Vaggie. She shrieked, dropping the paper bags cradled in her arms. Hostility quickly took root in her expression, and Alastor nearly thought she was going to reach for her spear.

"You can't _do that to people!_ " She snarled, glaring viciously. 

"So sorry, darling!" Alastor apologized caustically. 

"No, you're not." Vaggie sighed, defeated. "What do you want?"

"I require love advice!" 

Her brows furrowed and she placed her hands on her hips. "Okay...? What for?"

"Why, Countess! Who else?" He said, impatiently conjuring his staff to meddle with. 

"Countess?" She questioned. "Really? She looks like she hates you."

"Oh, she does!" Alastor confirmed his smile widening.

"Then why do you need love advice? I'm not letting you harass her any more than you already do." Vaggie scolded, reaching down to collect her spilled articles. 

"No, no, dear! You misunderstand me!" He asserted haphazardly. "Perhaps, I should be more specific. How does one tell if someone is in love with them?"

"Oh, um," Vaggie scratched the back of her neck, abandoning her collection of valuables. "I guess you can tell by the way they talk to you, touch you, and look at you. It should be really obvious when someone is trying to be intimate with you. They start spending more time with you, they'll start doing nice things for you, and openly displaying affection. Does that help?"

"Yes! One more question, though!" 

"Okay, if it gets you to leave me alone."

Alastor hesitated. Should he ask? Even he didn't know if he wanted the answer, but if wanted to rekindle his friendship with Countess, then he needed to take this next step. He would do it, of course, he could do anything. It would just be very, very uncomfortable.

But for his dear friend Glenda, he would do _anything_. 

* * *

"That self-absorbed sack of crap better not be behind this." Rudy snapped when she walked into the living space.

Countess had her head buried in her pillow, sobbing endlessly. Her shoulders heaved up and down raggedly as she emptied her heart onto her decorative furniture. 

"He is!" She wailed into the fabric. 

"I'm gonna upgrade from kicking him in the shins to stabbing him in the shins. " Rudy grumbled, rubbing the space between Countess's shoulder blades and her wings. 

"I told him!" Countess sniffed, lifting her head from her pillow and smearing her makeup. "I-I told him _everything_ ! I'm such a _fool_!" 

"No, he just doesn't know when to quit."

"I don't know what to do! I can't ever show my face at the hotel ever again!" Countess wept pathetically. 

"Don't you dare say that!" Rudy berated, smacking her friend's arm. "Don't let him win! That's what he wants! He wants you to break under the pressure. So, don't."

"It's a lot harder than you think!" Countess hissed, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks. "You're not the one who always gets flustered around him!" 

"No, I get violent." Rudy said. "He's gonna pay. I'll kick him in both his shins so he can't walk in the morning,"

She paused to look down at Countess. Her anger turned into affection as she saw what a wreck her boss was. Countess was a mess, a wet, quivering mess of grief and embarrassment. Rudy's descriptions of brutal revenge weren't easing Countess's broken heart. But she knew what would. 

"Hey," She said softly, pushing a piece of Countess's stray hair behind her pointed ears. "How about some strawberry ice cream, hot apple cider, and a nice game of chess? Will that make you feel better?"

Countess sniffled but smiled through the tears. "Yes, thank you." 

Rudy held Countess's head in her lap, petting her hair tenderly. They laid like that for the rest of the night. Listening to jazz and snacking on smooth ice cream. Countess eventually drifted off to sleep with her cheek resting on Rudy's shoulder. It was uncomfortable but Rudy dared not move. 

Her friend was finally at peace. 

She wasn't going to ruin that for her. 

So, she let her lay there, listening to the crackle of the fire before it went out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, a not so ominous ending! This time, we just get best friend cuddles. But what's Alastor going to do next? What was the thing he asked Vaggie? OOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> Things only get more complicated from here on out! 
> 
> And also...
> 
> HOLY CRAP??!!!!!
> 
> More than FIFTY KUDOS?! GUYS!! GUYS, GUYS! I'VE NEVER HAD THIS MANY KUDOS!!! THANK YOU SO SO SO SO SO MUCH FROM THE VERY BOTTOM OF MY HEART. You all are AMAZING. AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!
> 
> *ahem*
> 
> Don't forget to leave a comment and a kudos! They keep me motivated to write more! Let me know what you think! Any theories, thoughts, or questions? I'm interested to hear what my lovely readers have to say! <3


	9. Playing With Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***
> 
> "Valentino," She hummed softly, her eyes catching the movement of a single shadowed figure. "A bit far away from your lofty apartment, aren't you? To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"
> 
> "It really is you." He contemplated, stepping out of the darkness to reveal his rose-colored glasses and sharp red teeth. His smile was disconcerting, to be sure. His smile was different than Alastor's. While Alastor could hold many different emotions in his never-ending grin, Valentino's always reminded her of a salamander. A very smart, slippery, conniving salamander. "You know, when Vox told me you were back, I didn't believe him."
> 
> "I'm full of surprises."
> 
> "You always were."
> 
> ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh, a new character comes into the mix! I had fun writing Valentino. Even from what little I know about him, he seems like a cunning and sneaky character. Someone that gets the deets on everyone and uses it as blackmail. Wouldn't surprise me at all. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy the chapter! It's a change of pace from the last one so I hope it doesn't jar anyone too much! 
> 
> Anyway, on to the chapter!

A good, early morning flight always cured Countess's confusion. 

The crisp, refreshing air whipped viciously at her exposed skin, but she welcomed the feeling. It was a worthy distraction from everything else in her after-life. So, she let the winds drift underneath her webbed wings, sailing up into the crimson sky until she broke through the clouds. 

The sky cleared her mind as she breathed in and out therapeutically. Her worries and stress leaked out of her thoughts and was replaced with a peaceful stillness. Countess glided over the crest of roiling thunderheads, watching as lightning danced across their blood-like surface. The clouds toiled in the sky, promising a dangerous storm. 

She did not falter, though, and dove straight into the chaos. 

The wind picked up, crashing into her without warning. She folded her wings, allowing the mighty draft to carry her body before snapping them open to gain altitude. 

Countess had learned a long time ago how to fly in a storm. It was exhilarating. The ozone hummed with electricity, and everything shook from the thunder. The air was unpredictable, it could sweep her up and send her throttling towards the ground in seconds before yanking her back up again.

She wouldn't let it, though. Just how she wouldn’t let Alastor bother her any longer. 

Maybe... 

She would at least try.

Yesterday for her, was hard, which was an understatement. But the look of fear on Alastor's face, that shine of terror dancing behind his eyes. Subtle enough for no one else to notice, but to her, it was practically glaring in her face. But the more she thought about it, he probably wasn't so much as scared as he was surprised. Alastor was never afraid. He was fear incarnate. There was no way he could be rattled by the fact that she might love him. 

Right?

Countess gasped as the wind tossed her to the right. She stumbled to gain her bearings before she banked sharply. 

She cursed his name. She had been so busy thinking about Alastor that she hadn't been paying attention to the changes in pressure. That had almost been a disaster. She would've had to explain that to Rudy. As small as Rudy was, for being a kangaroo-mouse demon, she could be terrifying. Which was why Countess enjoyed her company so much. Rudy was as unpredictable as this storm, which was what made her so much fun. 

And the fact that she'd begun the habit of kicking Alastor. That was hilarious. 

Speaking of Rudy. They had a conversation earlier this morning.

A very uncomfortable and delicate conversation. 

It was about Alastor, of course, but it was why she was flying. Trying to forget her issues. 

Because Rudy had pointed out something that had caused worry with herself. 

_I still care about Alastor._

Countess yelped as a bolt of lightning struck just before her nose. The smell of fire burned in her nose, and she went blind for a few seconds. She blinked away the dots dancing in her eyes as thunder clapped in her ears. 

_CURSE THAT MAN!_

Countess shook her head brutally, droplets of water cascading around her. 

He consumed her thoughts and endangered her wellbeing! She shouldn't give him so much attention. He wasn't worth it. No, he wasn't. He couldn't be. Not after what he did to her.

She'd given her _everything_ to him. Her blood, her sweat, her heart, and her _tears_. 

Why didn't he care back?! 

Thunder choked through the blearing rain, and Countess began to shiver from the cold. 

He'd played her for a fool, toyed with her heart, and then tossed it aside. 

Perhaps, that was his goal all along, to get close to her and then rip her apart. Alastor was always an egotistical maniac. If he had heard about how powerful she was, he would've wanted to prove to all of Hell that he could beat her. Making him the most powerful demon in Hell. Besides Lucifer, Lillith, and maybe Charlie. Charlie had yet to impress anyone with prowess. But that wasn't to say that she wasn't saving it for a special occasion. 

Countess didn't fancy herself powerful, though. 

She could hardly control her powers, and they didn't work when she wanted them to. They were irregular and unreliable. It was as if they had a mind of their own. Only choosing to bend to her will when she was extremely passionate. Even then, it was seldom that she had a strategy. 

Countess surprised herself when she became what the people of Hell called an 'overlord'. She hadn't meant to use her powers for that, it just happened. One moment she had fallen to Hell, tears blurring her eyes, blooding dripping down her forehead, and an impossible ache burning in her heart...and then she was ripping distorted bodies to shreds. She hadn't been in command of herself then. Truth be told, she hardly ever was.

Finally, she broke free of the storm. She shook precipitate from her body and scraped the frost from her coat. Prismic-like icicles dangled from her wings, which she happily swung off with a sharp barrel roll. 

Countess decided to land and rest herself before making the journey back home. She pulled her wings up to glide down to the ground, skidding across the paved roads of Pentagram City before breaking into a walk. 

The streets of the city were dark. Considering it was about four in the morning, she wasn't surprised. Not a single person scurried about in the shadowy alleyways, and all was silent. A few curious eyes poked out from behind curtains, but that was it. Just her and the distant rumble of the storm. 

That was until she heard footsteps behind her. 

She turned around quickly. The hairs on her neck rose on end. The feeling of being followed pooled at the bottom of her gut. Countess scanned the empty road behind her. A single sign creaked on its hinges. 

She knew someone was there. She could sense it. 

Countess kept walking, ears perked.

It wasn't until a certain fragrance wafted under her nose did she pause in her stride. 

That pungent smell of cologne and perfume belonged only to one demon in Hell.

"Valentino," She hummed softly, her eyes catching the movement of a single shadowed figure. "A bit far away from your lofty apartment, aren't you? To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

"It really is you." He contemplated, stepping out of the darkness to reveal his rose-colored glasses and sharp red teeth. His smile was disconcerting, to be sure. His smile was different than Alastor's. While Alastor could hold many different emotions in his never-ending grin, Valentino's always reminded her of a salamander. A very smart, slippery, conniving salamander. "You know, when Vox told me you were back, I didn't believe him."

"I'm full of surprises."

"You always were." Valentino stopped feet away from her, his luscious coat trailing the ground like a royal cape. "What brings you back? I think I have a guess."

"You always bragged about knowing everything about everyone," Countess replied, her voice edged with poison. "I'm sure you know why."

"Yeah, I do,"

Her blood boiled. She'd never liked Valentino. Mostly because he somehow knew just how to push her buttons. Not that everyone didn't already, she was easy to rile up. But Valentino had a way of making her feel small and unworthy of her talents. He was a cunning manipulator, the best she's ever seen. And politics are all about manipulation. 

"What do you want? I was just about to head home." She said, perhaps a bit too quickly because his smile widened and his eyes narrowed knowingly. 

_Oh god._ She thought nervously. _Not this again._

"Did you know Alastor came to talk to me?"

"Shocker," Countess deadpanned, even though she was genuinely curious. Alastor avoided Valentino like the plague. Mostly because Vox was always close by. Alastor hated Vox with a burning passion. Even Countess knew not to bring up Vox's name around him. She didn't know why she had never asked him about it. Maybe it was because even a simple hint towards the TV demon sent Alastor reeling into a fear-inducing hissy fit of static. 

"It actually is. He never visits me." Valentino began to circle Countess. An intimidation factor, she observed. She wouldn't let him get to her. She was stronger than that. 

She hoped. 

"Yes, I can see the reason why," Countess grumbled. "You were never the most pleasant company."

"Ouch, dragon-pie." Valentino gasped, clutching at his metaphorical heart as if in pain. "I'm hurt."

"Don't call me that." She snapped, her patience thinning each second longer she had to spend around his infuriating presence. 

"Do you know what he wanted?"

"I'd rather not."

"Oh, I think you'll be interested."

"I highly doubt that."

"He asked about you."

That caused her to pause. Why would Alastor go to Valentino about her? Alastor already knew everything he needed to know about her. Okay, maybe not everything, but he knew enough. So why...?

 _No._ Countess scolded herself inwardly. _He's trying to get under your skin. Don't let him. Don't do it. This is a test. If you can resist Valentino, Alastor will be a piece of cake._

"I really should be getting home--"

"You're not even a bit curious about what he asked specifically?"

"No." She lied. 

Valentino's eyes lit with excitement, and her ears flattened against her head in fear. 

He knew she was lying.

_Crud biscuits._

"Well, I'll tell you anyway because it creates so much drama." Valentino licked his lips slowly. 

Countess gulped. 

"He wanted to know about dear Jody. Does that name ring a bell?"

Oh, it rang more than a bell. It snapped something dangerous within her. She was on Valentino in less than a second, her obsidian colored claws pinning him into a wall. Dust exploded around them as the foundation of the building began to buckle from the sheer force of her fury.

"How do you know that name?!" She snarled, baring her fangs and digging her talons into his neck. Fire boiled in her blood, and it begged to be released, to spill all over the body of this wretched demon. To hear him scream in agony as flames would creep up his body, charring that smug face of his.

Valentino's snobbish demeanor faded as a dangerously wicked scowl adorned his feature.

"What the _fuck_ do you think you're doing?"

"Threatening you, idiot!" Countess roared, her wings extending behind her menacingly. The air began to clam with heat, she could practically taste the smoke on her tongue. Her eyes darkened and the ground trembled. "Is it working?"

"Not really."

"Fine!"

She rammed him into the building again, ruffling up his perfectly ironed composure. 

"What did you tell him?" She warned. "If you told him anything, I swear, I'll rip out your throat and leave your body for the birds to eat."

"Calm down, dragon-pie. I didn't tell him anything because I didn't know anything." Valentino's lips curled in distaste. "You're a very hard demon to get information on."

"Good." She dropped him, watching with satisfaction as he grimaced. "Why did he want to know?"

"Didn't say. Just asked if I knew anything." Valentino rubbed his neck gently, a smirk creeping on his face. "You know, you have a _very_ strong grip."

"Whatever you're thinking, stop." Countess hissed, stabbing a finger at him. 

"All business, no fun. As usual. You haven't changed at all in seventy years."

"And neither have you."

"Fair enough." He shrugged his shoulders, placing a slender finger underneath his chin. "I am curious, though. What are you going to do to Alastor? Now that you know?"

Countess turned away from Valentino, spreading her wings and gently flapping them once or twice to get a feel for the air. 

Her heart tore in two directions. Part of her told her to forget about Alastor's inquisition and the other part told her to make him pay for it. He'd asked for information she'd never told anyone. Not even Rudy. It was so personal that it was rare that even the name was mentioned. Countess didn't like to talk about her death. 

It made her after-life messier and a whole lot worse than it already was. 

The part of her that screamed revenge sounded more appealing so she gave in and let the rage consume her. 

A rare, sadistic smile split across her face and she chuckled maniacally. Fire burst to life in her blackened palm and it illuminated her beneath her chin, casting dancing shadows across her wicked face.

"He'll learn what happens when he plays with fire," She sneered. She released the flame, letting it lick against the sidewalk and crawl up the closest buildings. 

Valentino cursed, standing up quickly to bat away the embers. 

"He gets _burned_."

* * *

"So that's the infamous Countess I've heard so much about?"

A darkened figure scratched his chin, smoothing out his newspaper and leaning over. His greedy eyes scanned the article over, resting on a picture of Countess's face. In the black of the room, he tapped the paper, tracing his nail over her cheek. His eyes lidded over, humming to himself quietly as he studied every feature of her. All of it lovely. 

"She's quite an interesting figure." He spoke quietly, his voice like runny oil dripping from his lips. "And it seems the Radio Demon has a fascination for her, as well."

He folded the paper and set it aside.

"A little competition never hurt anyone." He placed his fingertips together, resting them on his nose. "Especially with a prize _this_ valuable."

The figure stood up from his seat, the newspaper fluttering down until it rested on the ground. 

And then he vanished into emptiness. Leaving nothing behind but the single flame of a candle and the sharp tang of blood that dripped from the walls. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh, spaghettios. 
> 
> The plot thickens! 
> 
> MWA HAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!
> 
> And now you have to wait until Wednesday! HAHA! 
> 
> Tell me what you guys think! Leave a kudos and a comment! I'll answer any questions, theories, or criticisms! They all keep me motivated! Thank you all for reading and keep staying awesome! I'll see you at the next chapter. :)


	10. How Intriguing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***
> 
> There was a knock on the door. Everyone's attention was turned towards the grand, double doors. At first, they all thought they were imagining things until there was a second knock on the door. 
> 
> Alastor watched Charlie spring up from the front desk and rush to the doors. Her hands were trembling when she reached for the knob. 
> 
> Charlie slowly opened the door, and the whole room held their breath. 
> 
> Outside the door were about five demons, shyly looking up at Charlie with pleading eyes.
> 
> ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! I'm sorry it's shorter than usual but time is being flung from my hands!
> 
> We're in Alastor's perspective again. I always get so nervous when I write him. Gotta make him accurate! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy the little chapter!

The morning seemed to drag on for Alastor.

He was more impatient than usual, sometimes pacing the floor of the commons. Charlie and the others watched him warily but never said anything. 

Even now, he couldn't stop pacing. His heels clicked and clacked as he waited, and waited, and waited. 

How long must he wait for her? 

Alastor knew Countess didn't start her job until later in the morning, but she was ten minutes late. Countess was never late. She was punctual and always came early. 

Charlie said she didn't know where the dragoness was, but Alastor had a theory.

She most likely decided to not come back after their conversation yesterday.

How unfortunate.

Especially after all the trouble he got into for her! 

He even contacted Valentino! 

A heroic and exceptionally uncomfortable visit. 

He was not a fan of Valentino. Mostly because he was frequently seen around Vox. The disgusting, flat-faced, pathetic excuse of an overlord. He did nothing but lounge about all day. Both of them. They would never understand the meaning of hard work. Yet, they were still rewarded for their laziness.

Oh, dear, he could feel his temper rising. He couldn't have that! Especially so early in the morning!

But his patience was running dangerously thin. 

Countess was still nowhere to be seen, and she was now  _ twelve  _ minutes late! 

It was unheard of!

"Do you need something, Alastor?" Vaggie finally spoke up, glancing from over the front desk. 

Alastor tossed his staff into his opposite hand. "Nothing you can provide, dear!"

"Then will you stop pacing, please? You're giving me a headache." 

"I second that," Husk grumbled, the lid of a beer bottle hanging from his lips. 

"You're drunk!" Vaggie exclaimed as if that would change the winged-cats countenance. 

"Yeah? So? I'm always drunk. Fuck off."

Vaggie groaned, sinking into her chair. She knew it was pointless to try and argue. "Are you sure you don't need anything, Alastor? You look stressed."

"Quite the opposite, Vaggie!" Alastor replied. "I'm never stressed, but I  _ am _ growing impatient. I'm waiting for Countess, and she seems to be late."

"Oh," Charlie spoke, lifting her head from the desk. "I forgot to tell you, Rudy just texted me that she was going to be late this morning. She told me there was something she had to take care of. I'm sorry, I totally forgot."

"Don't worry about it, princess!" Alastor reassured. "I was only curious."

"Rudy knows how to text?" Vaggie inquired. "I figured everyone from the late 1900s was stubborn about technology." She eyed Alastor silently. "Like him."

Alastor flashed his teeth innocently before Charlie replied.

"Well, it was from someone I don't even know. I don't know this number. See? And she gave me her phone number."

"She probably stole someone's phone," Vaggie commented. "And then texted us."

There was a knock on the door. Everyone's attention was turned towards the grand, double doors. At first, they all thought they were imagining things until there was a second knock on the door. 

Alastor watched Charlie spring up from the front desk and rush to the doors. Her hands were trembling when she reached for the knob. 

Alastor didn't blame her spark of cowardice. Lately, people had been attacking the hotel despite his threatening presence. Apparently, news of the Radio Demon's stay at the hotel hadn't caught on to everyone. Occasionally, they had gangs appear at the door with guns and grenades. Alastor took care of them quickly but never cleanly. Where was the fun in a clean death?

Charlie slowly opened the door, and the whole room held their breath. 

Outside the door were about five demons, shyly looking up at Charlie with pleading eyes. Curiosity traveled throughout the room, and all eyes were on the demons. 

"Hello?" Charlie asked sweetly. "Do you need anything?"

They all looked at each other nervously, neither one saying anything. 

It wasn't until Countess walked up behind them and gently placed her claws on their shoulders did one speak up.

"W-we'd like to try out the hotel," She whispered, her golden eyes flashing across the room anxiously. "We want to try and be redeemed."

The room was silent with shock. Charlie just stared at the demons in surprise before shaking her head and squealing with delight.

The demons flinched, but Charlie ushered them all in. 

"Come in!" she cheered happily. "Us at the Hazbin Hotel are honored to have you as some of our first clients! We'll take good care of you here!"

They all glanced at each other but began to smile and continued to enter the hotel. 

Alastor swept over to the demons and led them over to the front desk. 

"Welcome, guests!" He announced the static crackling in the air. "This over here is Vaggie! She'll give you the keys to your rooms! I would suggest no more than two people to a room. Wouldn't you agree, Vaggie?"

"Sure," She shrugged before she began issuing out keys to a pair at a time, stating the room number and floor. 

Charlie skipped over to Alastor happily, hugging him tightly before making her way down the rest of the room. Alastor smiled warmly, watching Charlie go about and hug everyone in the room, including their new guests. 

Alastor glanced at the door and saw Countess leaning on the frame, a proud grin dancing on her lips. She noticed he was staring and immediately frowned, stepping out from the door and walking in with Rudy trailing behind. 

Niffty ducked under Alastor's long legs and sped over to Rudy, grabbing her arm and tugging her away, chanting about some masterpiece she had found on the roof last night. Alastor watched them with great curiosity. 

How odd that the two would become friends! Although, Rudy's face did not wear the same excitement as the one-eyed demon that pulled her up the stairs. 

Alastor turned his attention back to Countess, walking over to her with his staff in hand. 

"Hello, dear Countess!" He proclaimed, spreading his arms wide, a friendly invitation. "Good to see you're still around."

She didn't even look at him, just walked past. He blinked once and tilted his head. 

_ Hmm...  _

He caught up to her quickly. "Come now, Countess! Aren't we friends?"

"We're not friends." She replied curtly. It was quick, short, and to the point. Her eyes never once looked at him, and her expression was unreadable. 

My, my! Now things were interesting!

She was ignoring him! Her face was impassive and calm. Why he'd never seen her in such a state! Usually, her emotions would froth at the end of her wit and threaten to strangle anyone unfortunate enough to see them. She was living fireball of passions, the kind that would gladly run you over for the sake of having her opinion stated. But Countess ignored him, actually pretended he wasn't there!

Now, that wouldn't do. 

He's never been ignored before.

And he wasn't about to change that now.

"Glenda," He sang quietly, and he saw her eyes change quickly. They snapped towards him with a menacing glare before she bit her lip and controlled herself again.

"Don't call me that."

"But I was courteous enough not to say it loud!" He expressed.

"Well, I appreciate that, but I'd rather you not call me that. Ever. Again." She said, her voice dipping low into a growl. 

"Understood!" Alastor said, slipping his arm between hers. "Now, let's go talk in private where inquisitive ears can not hear us."

She yanked her arm out of his and walked away. "No, thank you."

She  _ denied _ him! 

Irritation eased its way into his mind. His smile curled up, and shadows danced behind him. They chanted alarmingly violent suggestions of how to disassemble Countess. Slowly. Making her scream deliciously for him before he would devour her soul. 

Alastor shook his head, snapping his fingers. The shadows returned to him, and their whispers disappeared. As much as he felt inclined to listen to them, if he killed Countess now, all of his work last night would go to waste! 

And he wasn't one to waste opportunities. 

Before he could approach Countess again, Charlie attacked her with a hug.

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you so much!" Charlie cried, joy pulsing off of her like a sun on a hot summer's day. 

"It's no problem, it's my job after all," Countess replied affectionately, hugging back timidly. 

"How did you do it?" Charlie begged. "The news advertisement was a disaster! How did you get others to give it a chance?"

"Well, you just have to find the right people. Rudy and I have been searching for demons who don't like living here. They're very hard to find, but we managed to convince them to give redemption a chance."

"You're kidding?!" She gasped, pulling away. 

"No." Countess smiled softly. "You had the right idea with telling people about the hotel, you just didn't have a target audience. Audiences are critical for success. If you know who exactly you have to appeal to, it'll be easier for you to convince them. Besides, once demons start coming in and seeing it works, more that want to be redeemed will come in! It only takes one person." She turned around and gestured to the demons at the front desk. "And I've brought five."

"I really can't thank you enough. This is probably the happiest day of my life!" She embraced Countess again.

Alastor watched with growing excitement as Countess stiffened and patted Charlie on the head. 

Now, this was the Glenda--pardon--Countess he knew! Cunning and good at her job. She was compassionate but ruthless. One moment she could be making your dessert, and the next she could be scattering your entrails all over the ground.

That's what made her so fascinating! Her ability to always surprise him. She was unpredictable. 

And goodness was he excited to see what she would do next! 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, here's the thing guys...
> 
> Due to unfortunate medical circumstances, I'll be taking about a week's hiatus from this story. Now, that might change. You might get an irregular upload but must of the time, I'll be sleeping and recovering. That being said, there will most likely not be a chapter Friday(I'm sorry...). Which is why I tried not to leave it on a cliff hanger, but I don't wanna lose my readers either! I should be back within a week if everything goes well. 
> 
> As always, I love to hear what you all think! Drop a comment and kudos. I always get so excited about comments. I'll answer questions, theories, or maybe even just say hello! Either way, I appreciate all my readers! I'll see you at the next chapter! <3


	11. Ah, Those Sleepless Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *** 
> 
> She'd won the game. 
> 
> At long last.
> 
> Alastor was gone.
> 
> And she was victorious. 
> 
> ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a week, it is finally here! I'm sorry if there are horrid grammar mistakes but I ran out of time to proofread. I wanted to get this out as fast as possible! It's a tad bit longer than previous chapters so I hope you all enjoy it!

Countess was consumed in her papers. After her and Rudy's earlier success in bringing clients, she was eager to get more. She had a few more alleys and underground spaces to target. Countess would visit those tomorrow and try and find more customers willing to give the hotel a shot.

It was fun to be doing this again, using her political strategies. She couldn't remember a single time in Hell that she'd used them. At first, she was worried that she would be rusty. It was nice to see that she still had a few tricks up her sleeve. 

Countess was surprised that Rudy was still missing. Most likely doing something with Niffty. She hadn't anticipated the two being friends, other than their size. They were similar in height, with Rudy being just a smidge taller. Countess couldn't really think of anything they had in common. The biggest thing that surprised her about the blossoming friendship was the fact that Niffty was so attached to Alastor. Rudy despised Alastor and for a good reason. Countess assumed that because of Niffty's relationship with Alastor, Rudy would avoid her. 

But apparently not. 

Countess looked up when she heard a knock at the door.

"Come in," She replied sweetly, setting down her papers. 

Husk poked in his head, looking up at Countess with his solemn, owl-like eyes. He entered rather sheepishly, softly shutting the door behind him and keeping his distance. 

He seemed worried. His extravagant, red eyebrows were pulled down in distress, and his arms were crossed stiffly over his chest. 

"Do you need something, Husk?"

"We've known each other for a while, Countess," Husk said gruffly, scratching behind his ear. "Long enough for me to tell when you're planning something. Listen, I don't know what the fuck happened between you and Alastor, but I beg you, please don't drag the rest of us into it."

"Dear Husker, I don't intend to involve any sinful soul here except for Alastor's. You don't need to worry about your comrades." Countess said calmly, her posture straight and assertive. "Surely, if you've known me that long, that wouldn't be of a surprise."

"Listen, I know what you're trying to do." He accused, his tail flicked behind him nervously. 

"Do you?"

"You're just going to end up hurt again." Husk snorted. "He doesn't feel that way about you."

"Yes, he made that very clear." 

"Then you've got to fucking stop," He replied, taking a step forward. "I've known Alastor longer than you have. He's cunning, malicious, and cares for no one but himself. He won't hesitate to put you in your place again."

"No, no, Husk," Countess tutted, holding back her explosive temper. She really did have to get better at concealing her emotions. "I don't think you understand. I've declared a game with Alastor. It would be foolish to back out now."

"Countess, this isn't some fucking game..."

"Oh, but it is."

"You sound just like him."

Countess narrowed her eyes and leaned forward over her desk. Husk flinched uncomfortably. Even after all these years, he still could not find ease in her presence. Despite Countess's notorious reputation, she wasn't a sporadic murderer. No, her murders were carefully planned in secret. They were devised most viciously, each detail designed to perfection. Elusiveness was the key. She always struck when her enemy least expected it. 

"I'm assuming you talked with him too?" She inquired.

"Of course, I fucking did." Husk growled. "And he said the same fucking thing. You two can't get your heads out of your asses long enough to see that this isn't the right way to go."

"And which way should we go?"

Husk paused and then mumbled something grumpily to himself. "Look, I don't know the right way to do this, but I know that this definitely isn't it." 

"I'm sure he asked you who you think would win."

"Yeah, so?"

Countess rose an eyebrow, obligating him to reveal more. 

He shifted nervously. "I ain't telling."

"Fine, if that's how you want it to be." Countess stood up, and Husk watched her warily. "I think you've overstayed your welcome." With a flick of her wrist, the door opened. 

Husk frowned deeply but exited the office. 

"Fine, but you're more like him than you think."

Countess growled, glaring at Husk as he left the room. 

"I am nothing like him." Countess snarled, straightening her skirt. "I'm much better."

***

It tasted like honey. The sweet, dark pleasures of her after-life never seemed to satisfy her. Even as the crimson red blood dripped down her clawed fingers, she never found full gratification in the gore of her enemies. But for this enemy, she relished in the feeling of triumph. Countess licked her lips, tasting the sweet blood trickling down her throat. 

The destruction was devastating. Limbs protruded from beneath ashy debris, and the streets were soaked in scarlet. The air stung with the stench of metallic blood, his blood.

An inhuman cackle escaped her lips, her features caught in a malicious state of victory.

Before her lay a body, mangled and barely recognizable. But she knew who it was. His blood stained her fingers, and his heart had been crushed by her hand. 

There, floating above the carnage, was none other than the king of Hell himself. He frowned down upon her with a fury she had not seen before in any being.

Of course, she hadn't kept her promise. How could she have made such a promise? Anyone who stood in the way of her success was eliminated. It was the way things were.

She'd won the game. 

At long last.

Alastor was gone.

And she was victorious. 

Countess woke in a cold sweat. She clutched at her chest as the breath was stolen from her. She couldn't breathe, and she gasped for air. Sweat beaded down her forehead, matting her loose hair to her face. 

Her fingers were trembling as she pulled the blankets closer to her. 

Rudy burst into her bedroom, frazzled and barely awake. She yawned sheepishly and rubbed her eyes. 

"Hey, are you okay?" Rudy asked. "I heard a scream."

"Yes, I'm fine. I just had a bad dream. It's not uncommon."

"Right, but we always have nightmares in Hell. They never scare you." Rudy crossed her arms, the light of her candle dancing shadows across her pale fur. Her ears flattened as her orange eyes studied Countess. "Glen, is there something wrong?" 

"Not at all. Of course not."

"What was it about?"

Countess looked away, biting her lower lip. 

Rudy's brow creased before she walked in. "It was about Alastor, wasn't it?" 

"No." 

"Yes, it was." 

"No, it wasn't."

Rudy looked unconvinced. 

"Okay, fine it was!" 

“Knew it. But what was it about? Was it about the night he betrayed you? I swear if you have another bad dream about that night, I’m gonna kick in both his shins, twice. Just for good measure.” Rudy huffed, entering Countess’s bedroom and sitting beside her on the bed. 

“No, it was...very different this time. I don’t want to talk about it.” Countess mumbled quietly before covering her face in the sheets. “You can go back to bed.” 

“No can do, kangaroo.”

Countess peeked from underneath her silk covers in distaste. “Did you just call me a kangaroo?”

“So what if I did?”

“That’s just redundant. I am nothing like a kangaroo! I—"

“Stop avoiding this conversation.” Rudy sighed, ripping the sheets from Countess’s clawed fingers. “You’re not very good at it.” 

“You’re just rude.” 

“Glenda.” 

“Alright!” Countess fiddled with her sheets. "I dreamt about _killing_ Alastor. And I...liked it? A lot more than I'm willing to admit. It felt so real, I actually felt happy about it." 

"Okay...? Since when have you not enjoyed murder?" Rudy questioned. 

"I don't know. Since...that night. I haven't killed ever since he betrayed me." Countess replied pitifully. "Besides, I wouldn't say I enjoyed it." 

Rudy rose an eyebrow, leaning back on Countess's headboard. "Really? What about that time you laughed when you took off that one overlord's head?" 

"His face was ridiculous!" Countess defended.

"Or that time when you wouldn't stop talking about that gang you dismembered?" 

"They were all comedians! They wouldn't stop making jokes!" 

"Okay, whatever." Rudy shrugged, giving up. "I don't know why it disturbed you so bad. You're not a stranger to death." 

"Me either..."

Rudy patted Countess's shoulder affectionately. "Well, if you need anything, just yell." 

"Of course," She reassured, waving Rudy out the door. When it shut, she was concealed in darkness. Countess uncomfortably settled down, knowing that she would not sleep again tonight. 

***

Alastor skipped across the streets, sneezing unexpectedly. He straightened his back upright, blessing himself--ironically--before continuing down the darkened streets of Pentagram City.

Tonight he was exceptionally bored. He figured that bothering Countess at this ungodly hour was rude, so he opted for a different form of entertainment. 

Rightfully so, the life of his recreation oozed from his open lips. Oh, tonight's escapade had ended deliciously. The blood of his unfortunate source of pleasure had tasted so delectably sour. Oh, how he loved the taste of tainted blood. Better yet was the taste of innocence. He hadn't devoured a pure soul in such a long time. He's been too busy with the hotel to occasionally make a quick visit to the living world. 

He licked the carnage from his fingers, humming delightfully at the taste. 

His prey had given him quite the chase tonight! Why Alastor couldn't remember a more eventful hunt! His dinner was clever, oh so very clever. Until they got themselves stuck in a corner. Then they became very foolish. 

It mattered little in the end. He'd had his fun and the meat was tasty. 

If only Countess could see him.

She would curl that cute little nose in disgust. 

Countess hated the idea of him eating his victims. If he remembered correctly, she'd called him a vile, revolting, shameless monster. Which he most certainly is! He loves the shrill screams and the crunch of bones beneath his grip. Besides, the taste was wonderful. From then on, Countess vowed to never eat his cooking again, lest there be human bones in it. She followed this to a tee, even if Alastor insisted he wouldn’t trick her like that. Which he definitely would. 

He breathed in the thick night air, sighing happily. 

Alastor had fond memories of nights like these and it didn’t involve his sporadic eating sprees. Oh no, these nights were spent atop a lovely balcony bathed in glittering gold. They were cherished by the circumstance of company, and he very much enjoyed late night company. Especially Countess’s. By Lucifer, she was so insightful. Her most promising conversations were under the cover of night. She seemed more philosophical then. Her hair would be worn loose, draping across her glowing shoulders. A sight to behold if he ever admitted to it. 

Alas, he now spent most of his sleepless nights alone. Mimzy, every now and again, would be open for a visit but she was never as enticingly familiar as Countess. He saved those special nights for her. Special nights that soon faded away. 

There were some days he thought he regretted his decisions. But that was plain silly of him! 

He never regretted anything! Alastor was far too prestigious for that. 

Even so, he still found Countess quite bewildering. It seemed as if she was still ambivalent about matters concerning himself. She seemed conflicted at every turn and he found it very fascinating. 

For his own satisfaction, he hoped it would stay that way. It just made their situation all the more interesting. It was the most fun he’d had in years. 

Seventy years if he were being precise.

Alastor paused in his reverie, glancing over his shoulder as if expecting someone to be there. In fact, he was. He felt as if eyes were following his every move, stalking his journey back to the hotel. Alastor’s scarlet eyes scanned the streets suspiciously. He hated cowardly foes. If they didn’t have the courage to face him directly, they weren’t worth his attention. 

So, he continued on his merry way. Ignoring the subtle warnings the shadows teased in his ear. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm... There will be a new character introduction very soon. As in like, four chapters from now, but I figured I might tease them in previous chapters to get you guys excited! Hopefully, it's working? I can't say when the next chapter will be out, I'm still recovering from surgery. My hope is soon. Very soon. 
> 
> As always, I love you guys and thank you for reading! Don't forget to leave a kudos and a comment! I love comments and will answer all of them eventually! Thank you all so much for being amazing! <3


	12. Uncover The Mystery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***
> 
> "If by insightful you mean fanciful flights of the unfruitful pursuit of love. Then yes. It taught me not to waste time on such..." He mulled the word over in his head as if looking for it. His eyes narrowed dangerously as he leaned even farther over Countess. "Insufficiencies." 
> 
> Countess stood up, her anger kindling in the pits of her stomach.
> 
> "Is that all our friendship was to you?" She seared, her hands balling into shakey fists. "An insufficiency?"
> 
> ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this is a day late! I've been really busy for a person who just sits on the couch all the time. XD I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

To say Charlie was elated was, indeed, an understatement. She was absolutely thrilled, her happiness threatening to bubble out of her rosy cheeks. If there could be stars in her eyes, there would be. They would be twinkling in her irises like diamonds. Countess found that seeing Charlie's joy was warmly delightful. In fact, she'd do many things to see Charlie so excited.

This is why, throughout the week, Countess brought more and more clients. Soon enough, they had over sixteen residents filling up the lobby. Alastor was having a blast cooking the meals. Countess found no issue with that. The busier Alastor was, the better it was for her. He had inaudibly opted to give her space. A moment to breathe and recollect herself. It was an opportunity she would not ignore, and most certainly take advantage of. 

Currently, she was enjoying a delightful book in the hotel lobby. Her left arm was draped over the back of the chair, and her head lazily leaned on the armrest. It was a book she had read many times and always found infinitely fascinating.  _ The Great Gatsby  _ was an older book, published when she was but a young child. She had read it the moment it came out. It had puzzled her to no end. But it fueled her undying goal to unlock all of its secrets. So, here she was, for the umpteenth time, reading through the book.

Her ears flicked backward, sensing movement behind her. Soon, the familiar hum of static drifted across the room. Countess growled softly, her earlier feeling of freedom vanishing. 

"An interesting choice for reading," Alastor commented, leaning over the couch to read the pages. "I always found  _ The Great Gatsby  _ to be a boring and dull book." 

"It has almost a satirical air about it," Countess argued. "If you look close enough, you'll find the hidden meaning. Or perhaps, you're just too simple to find such things." 

Alastor let out a hearty laugh, clutching his chest as if it were painful. "I never thought the pointless pursuit of false affection to be entertaining. I had much more fun reading  _ Sherlock Holmes _ . Now, those were exciting and intriguing tales." 

"Of course, you'd think so." Countess sneered, marking her page and closing the book. "He was nothing short of a sadistic sociopath who just happened to solve the mysteries of murder for a less than adequate pay."

Alastor's eyes darkened. "I thought he was quite insightful." 

"Then, you would agree that the subtle ideologies in  _ Gatsby  _ were also insightful." Countess glared up at his leering smile. 

"If by insightful you mean fanciful flights of the unfruitful pursuit of love. Then yes. It taught me not to waste time on such..." He mulled the word over in his head as if looking for it. His eyes narrowed dangerously as he leaned even farther over Countess. "Insufficiencies." 

Countess stood up, her anger kindling in the pits of her stomach. She shouldn't make a scene, especially since Charlie was so happy. It wasn't her fault that Alastor was bothering her, though. And she was no pushover. 

"Is that all our friendship was to you?" She seared, her hands balling into shakey fists. "An  _ insufficiency _ ?"

"Now you're putting words in my mouth!" Alastor replied, ominously cheerful. 

"Don't you have work to do?" Countess spat out, grinding her teeth irritably. 

"As of right now, no!" Alastor said, swinging his long legs over the couch to stand in front of her. "The guests are eating as we speak, and everyone else has joined them. I was sent to make sure you knew lunch was ready."

"Wonderful." Countess deadpanned, grabbing her book and making a beeline for the front door. "Then I'll have lunch at my estate." 

Alastor materialized seemingly out of the ground to block her path. His staff tapped the ground aggressively when Countess attempted to walk around him. She took a step back, hugging her book close to her chest. 

"No, my dear! Everyone is expecting you at the table! It would be such a shame to get their hopes up, wouldn't you agree?"

He was trying to guilt-trip her into dining with him. There was no way she was going to eat at the same table as him ever again. Not after that stunt he pulled a few nights ago. She remembered the look on Rudy's face clearly as she was held down against her will. Countess would not allow Alastor to torment her friend for the sake of being courteous. Alastor didn't deserve her kindness.

"You can tell Charlie I'll not be joining her this afternoon. She'll understand, I'm sure." Countess pushed past Alastor, shoving open the double doors. 

Alastor's scarlet eyes darkened maliciously, and his smile twitched sharply. His shadow, disfigured and vicious, shifted behind him. His shadow peered over Alastor's shoulder, watching the blurred form of Countess disappear around a corner. 

Alastor looked at his shadow before nodding in her direction. As the shadow passed to follow her, Alastor turned on his heel. His boots clicked down the hallway as he returned to the dining room. His shadow would keep a watchful eye on Countess, spying on her from the darkened corners of the very home she thought would keep her safe. 

Countess would soon learn that there was nowhere he couldn't reach her. Alastor wouldn't stop until he had her back. He wouldn't stop until they could sit on the balcony together, he wouldn't stop until they could walk merrily down the streets together, he wouldn't stop until she was  _ his _ . After all, what were friends for? 

* * *

Charlie's expression deflated a bit when Alastor returned alone. 

Apparently, Countess wasn't coming to lunch. She couldn't blame her, though. Alastor had been more than obnoxious towards Countess, and Charlie might have to talk to him about it soon. Hopefully, soon was far away. As welcoming and seemingly charming Alastor was, she still knew he was dangerous. She could definitely take care of herself, but that didn't stop  _ one _ person in particular from worrying. 

Vaggie tensed up beside Charlie, suspiciously eyeing Alastor as he made his way to the end of the long table. Charlie placed her hand on Vaggie's cold, trembling fingers, hoping to ease her worry. Vaggie sighed tensely but smiled at Charlie. 

Vaggie was always a worrywart. Charlie did understand it to an extent. Vaggie really cared about Charlie and just wanted her to be safe. And she appreciated it, she really did. She adored that Vaggie was protective, but it was when she became  _ overprotective _ that a problem arose. Vaggie was particularly protective when a certain Radio Demon was nearby. She would step in front Charlie as if to hide her or tug her away from him immediately. This behavior made it difficult for Alastor and Charlie to talk about business plans so, she always had to find him in the middle of the night. 

Alastor was a night owl, which surprised Charlie at first. It was like he never slept, even though he insisted he have a bedroom in the hotel. Every night, she would find him either wandering the hotel or entering the hotel. Charlie didn't know what he got up to at night, but she felt obligated to trust him just a bit. 

Charlie watched as Alastor sat down, his eyes distant and calculating.

The lunch continued on silently. Some conversations were picked up here and there, but mostly it was just the clients getting to know one another. One particular demon, a small wolf-like girl, was constantly glancing around the room nervously. She caught Charlie's eye and glanced away quickly, fiddling with her napkin underneath the table. The poor girl looked about ready to run.

When lunch was over, the wolf girl disappeared up the main stairs, most likely going to her room. Charlie thought about going after her when something grabbed her sleeve. 

Charlie looked behind and saw Husk roughly gripping her sleeve. Vaggie, who was standing beside Charlie, whipped around sharply. Her gaze was murderous and demanded Husk let Charlie go. 

The cat demon rolled his eyes and let go of Charlie's sleeve. 

"I need to talk to you two." He whispered, looking around the room before ushering them over to the bar counter. 

Charlie and Vaggie looked at each other uneasily before following Husk. 

He dipped underneath the counter, yanking out a bottle of cheap liquor before taking a quick swig. He wiped his lips before speaking. 

"I have a favor to ask you both," Husk twitched his whiskers, once again looking around the lobby for eavesdroppers. 

"Okay?" Vaggie asked, leaning in to hear him better. 

"I need you two to dig up information on Countess and Alastor." Husk whispered sharply. "I'm worried."

"We all are." Vaggie huffed, crossing her arms. "Why can't you go ask him yourself? Aren't you two 'buddy-buddies'?" Vaggie made quotations with her fingers in the air. 

"Fuck no," Husk grumbled, taking another drink of the bottle. "I only know him because he fucking got me stuck in one of his deals. We were accomplices, and he thinks this makes us friends. Either way, he won't talk to me about it."

"Why not?" Charlie asked quietly, lowering her normally cheerful volume. 

"He won't tell me that either. Just get's all creepy and shit. I've brought it up to him once, and he threatened to eat my liver." Husk tapped the counter was his long, white claws. "Even Niffty tried. He's normally a real softy towards her, but he didn't say a fucking thing. Just ignored her." 

"Wow," Charlie breathed, sitting down in a barstool. "It sounds really personal, maybe we shouldn't..." 

"I wouldn't be asking you to do this if I didn't think we were in danger." Husk reassured. "With these two thinking they're in some competition, no one is safe. Countess won't stop until she wins this fucking 'game', and Alastor refuses to lose. Someone's gonna get hurt. I just don't want it to be me."

"Yeah, but--"

"We'll do it." Vaggie interrupted, resolve in her voice. 

"But Vaggie--" Charlie pleaded, turning around to face her. 

"Charlie, the more we know about Alastor's past, the safer we'll be," Vaggie said, taking Charlie's hands and holding them firmly in front of her. "I agree with Husk. If this...thing between Countess and Alastor gets out of hand, it could ruin the hotel."

"I know but...this is  _ very  _ personal stuff between them. I don't want to be nosing around in someone else's business. You know how frustrated I get when my parents do it. I don't want to do that to them. Mostly Countess. She's been a friend of my family for a very long time...I don't want to lose her trust."

Vaggie shook her head. "You won't. We won't tell anyone." 

"I don't know," Charlie bit her bottom lip. "Where would we even start?"

"You can start with one of Alastor's closest friends," Husk suggested in between gulps. "Rosie is the closest and she knows Alastor better than anyone else. Countess may be the only exception. If you want good info, you should go to her. I already told her that you'd be coming over."

"Wait," Vaggie looked at Husk. "You already told her we were coming? What if we said no?"

"I knew  _ you  _ wouldn't." Husk replied pointedly. 

"What about the hotel, Vaggie? We can't just leave...we actually have residents now. I'm the owner of this hotel! It's my job to make sure everyone is comfortable and doing their redemption exercises!" Charlie argued, plopping down in a barstool and rubbing her face, clearly stressed. "What if something happens while we're gone?"

"I hate to say this," Vaggie growled, sitting down beside Charlie and rubbing her back affectionately. "But Alastor can look over the hotel. You two are...business partners anyway. I'm sure he can handle everything while we're gone for a week or two." 

"Are you sure?" 

"Of course, mi Amor," Vaggie said softly, hugging Charlie close. "We'll do this together. We'll make sure the hotel and everyone in it, is safe. I promise."

"Okay," Charlie replied quietly, hugging Vaggie tightly, breathing in her sweet scent. 

Vaggie was right, they would do this together. And besides, Alastor was more than capable of handling the hotel without her. 

What could possibly go wrong? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm... 
> 
> Guys, GUYS. I PLANNED THIS STINKIN' BOOK! WHOO! Of course, I'm still adding chapters currently but I know my end goal, FINALLY. I'm no longer blindly chuckin' out chapters, now there's a PLOT. Whoo! I'm really excited to see where this goes and I hope you all are too! 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading! I appreciate all of you readers, you're amazing. Don't forget to leave a kudos and a comment! They keep me motivated and I love each and every one. Because holy moly, everyone...85 kudos?! I'm so happy! YOU ALL ARE SO AMAZING! I can't express in words how much all of your comments and kudos mean to me. Thank you all so much and I'll see at the next chapter! Hopefully, Wednesday...we'll see. 
> 
> Au revoir! <3


	13. Don’t Talk To Me About Sacrifices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***
> 
> Vaggie and Charlie packed the limo, closing the trunk before getting in. 
> 
> Once the vehicle started to drive down the street, Charlie looked back at the hotel longingly. Praying, to no one in particular, that nothing awful would happen. 
> 
> ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am soooo sorry this is late. I’ve been really busy lately so it’s been hard to find time to write. So I’m so behind with the next chapter, I might post it tomorrow. MIGHT. I make no promises. 
> 
> Anyway, on with the chapter!

"You're going where?" 

Charlie froze, fear climbing up her spine. 

Of course, Alastor was going to ask where they were going! She should've seen it coming, she should've prepared! She didn't have an excuse, a false location. This wasn't going as planned.

Alastor noticed her hesitation, leaning down to inspect her dark eyes in the hotel's main hallway.

Oh boy, was she _sweating_? Oh no. 

"Where did you say you were going?" He questioned again, that grin of his spreading. 

"I-I-- We, uh, w-we..." Charlie struggled to form the words, trembling nervously. "I-we-um--"

"We're going to find some sponsors." Vaggie cut in confidently, standing up straight beside Charlie. "For the hotel." 

Alastor hummed, bending back with a finger tucked contemplatively beneath his chin. 

"Yeah!" Charlie piped up, finally regaining her confidence. "It's so you don't have to put so much into it... The hotel."

"I think it's a splendid idea!" Alastor cheered, throwing his arms in the air dramatically. "But tell me, dear, isn't that Countess's job? I could've sworn she was the head of marketing."

"She is," Vaggie crossed her arms stubbornly. "But, these sponsors wanted to meet with us personally."

"Wonderful! I shall accompany you." Alastor said, turning around swiftly. 

Vaggie and Charlie exchanged frantic glances before charging after him. 

"Uh, you can't!" Charlie cried out, running to block Alastor's path.

"Why not?" He asked, tilting his head. 

"Because you're going to be in charge while we're gone." Vaggie sighed regretfully.

Alastor's eyes widened, mischief dancing beneath his scarlet irises. His smile crawled across his face, crinkling the corners of his eyes. His yellow-toothed grin sent shivers down Charlie's spine. 

Was this really a good idea? Alastor may have been helping them, with his own entertainment in mind, but he was still a troublemaker. In fact, he had recently started little bouts between the clients. There would be a small fight here and there, all the while Alastor would chuckle from a corner. One time, blood was drawn. That was a little scary, considering both had black eyes and one was bleeding from the arm. 

Maybe they should've put Countess in charge instead. 

"Oh!" Alastor exclaimed happily, clasping his hands behind his back. "I am humbled by your choice! I will do my best in your absence. How long did you say you were going to be gone?" 

Vaggie mumbled something behind Charlie angrily. 

"Hopefully now more than a few days," Charlie said, rubbing her arm uneasily beneath Alastor's penetrating gaze. "A week at the most. Are you sure you can do it? We can have Countess help you--"

Alastor wrapped his arms around Charlie's waist, pulling her close to him. Vaggie scowled from behind them, tapping her foot impatiently. 

"I think I can handle this, dear. I am more than capable of running the hotel by myself." 

"You're absolutely sure?"

"Completely!" 

"Okay," Charlie agreed, ducking underneath his hold to stand next to Vaggie. "If you ever need anything, you can call us. I guess." 

"Of course, my dears! I'll make sure nothing happens to the hotel while you're gone. Don't worry." Alastor began to push Vaggie and Charlie down the hallway. "Now, you must hurry, yes? You don't want to be late to these meetings!" 

"Uh, yeah. Thanks, Al, for everything." Charlie muttered, stiffening as Alastor's claws ushered them out into the lobby. 

"It's no problem, darling Charlie. It's my pleasure to assist you in your endeavors." He bowed dramatically, winking before melting into the floor and disappearing from view. 

Charlie and Vaggie both watched warily before picking up their bags and calling the limo. Razzle and Dazzle, the two goat demons, clopped hurriedly down the stairs, carrying their own tiny suitcases. 

Charlie smiled, leaning down to pat their heads. "You two don't have to come."

Razzle and Dazzle exchanged glances before scurrying out the door, making up their minds. 

Charlie loved the two little goat-like creatures, but she had a feeling that her dad insisted on them tagging along so he could keep tabs on her. Which was sort of sweet but infuriating? She liked to think her parents still wanted to hear about what she was doing, but she didn't like them shoving their noses into her _personal_ business. She was a grown woman, after all. 

Vaggie and Charlie packed the limo, closing the trunk before getting in. 

Once the vehicle started to drive down the street, Charlie looked back at the hotel longingly. Praying, to no one in particular, that nothing awful would happen. 

* * *

Countess slammed her claws on Alastor's desk, his shadow writhing beneath her crushing grip.

Alastor glanced up from his book, raising a brow at the noise. 

Countess was seething. Her cheeks were puffing in and out with her ragged breaths, and her wings were fully expanded. They took up nearly the entire office, which was spacious, to begin with. It made her look about two times bigger and far more intimidating. That is if he were intimidated. 

"You have some _nerve_." She growled between her fangs. 

"I believe I don't know what you're talking about." Alastor hummed, turning a page in his book.

Countess huffed in annoyance, yanking his shadow in the air and thrashing it about. It was a miracle she could even hold the thing, considering it was not made of solid substance. Alastor sighed, snapping his fingers, and the shadow returned to his side and out of Countess's vice-like grip. 

"Ah, yes. I thought it would be best to have it follow you around. Make you sure you aren't getting into any _trouble_." Alastor said, tapping a foot underneath the desk.

"Trouble?" Countess scoffed, cocking her hip and crossing her arms. "I find that highly doubtful. You just wanted to watch my every move and make sure I wasn't plotting anything against you. You're just scared you'll lose the game."

"I'm not afraid of losing the game."

"Really? You sure act like it." 

"I'm not."

Countess rolled her eyes.

Alastor finally put the book down, making it disappear in a puff of red smoke. He intertwined his fingers, resting his chin on them.

"Okay, fine, you're not," Countess huffed. "But you've got to remember that _I_ make the rules this time, and you have to abide by them." 

"My dear, I'd love to, but you haven't even told me what these rules _are._ " 

"It took me a while to think of them, but rest assured, there are rules." Countess narrowed her eyes. "And one of them includes no spying, from either side."

Alastor laughed, leaning back in his chair. "You're setting _boundaries_? Those are your rules?"

"Of course!" Countess exclaimed. "You're insufferably touchy and make it your mission to stick that nose of yours into everyone's business. I want space, which is something you'll obviously not give me unless I force it on you." 

"Fair enough," He agreed. Countess had a valid point. Personal space was not in his vocabulary unless it was his own. The golden rule, treat others the way you want to be treated, was something he did not follow. "Is that all?" 

"No. The second rule is no magic."

"Really?"

"Yes." Countess nodded. "We both are not to use magic to aid us in victory. This isn't some turf war. This is a battle of the heart."

"Third?"

Countess's frown curled slowly into a smirk. Her ears flattened against her skull, her eyes darkening sinisterly. "The loser goes into exile for seventy years. Alone. No communication with anyone, and they're not allowed to leave their domicile for anything. If they do, the other has full permission to _eliminate them_."

Alastor's eyes widened slightly, his smile twitching and curling up around his gums.

So, this was Countess's form of revenge. She didn't want him dead, which was what he assumed at first. But it seemed she wanted something different. Alastor didn't quite know what Countess would get out of sending him to exile for seventy years. Perhaps it made her feel better? Maybe it was her version of karma? Being in exile for seventy years didn't sound too terribly awful, just incredibly _dull_. 

"What if I refuse to accept these rules?" Alastor hummed contemplatively. 

"If I remember correctly, you've already asked this question. If one of us neglects the rules, the other loses. Simple as that."

"Shall we shake on it, then?" Alastor asked, extending his claws. 

Countess glared at his hand for a moment before taking it and shaking it. A green aura exploded in the office, and small orange flames licked at the edges of it. Their hands were sealed together, the first time in seven decades that the two had touched each other without malicious intent. They gazed into each other's conflicted eyes, seeing the same hurt and anger. 

When they pulled away, Countess abruptly turned away and stomped up to the door. Alastor got up and pulled her back. She whipped back to stare at him sharply, yanking her arm away from him. 

He hesitated. An action that he rarely displayed. 

"I would like to talk, if that's allowed in the rules, of course." He suggested. 

She glared at him suspiciously before shutting the door and staying in the room. 

"What do you want?" Countess snapped, crossing her arms rudely. 

"Just to talk." He said quietly, his smile loose and closed. "It's been a long time since we've just sat down and talked."

"You lost that privilege the night you betrayed me." 

"Please?" 

Countess's indifferent facade faltered slightly, her eyes softening, if even for a moment. "No,"

It was so soft he almost flinched. Her eyes spoke a thousand words, but they were too painful to say. Alastor watched her look away slowly, her shoulders sagging sadly and full of melancholy. 

"I'm sorry, but I can't trust you anymore. Not after what you did." 

Alastor recoiled back, his temper flaring. 

Did she not know the things he's sacrificed for her? Every second Alastor spent around her was a risk. His reputation was on the line, and he could feel he was going soft. Lucifer forbid he ever started showing mercy. He could've killed her that night. He could've slaughtered her and stolen her power as his own...but he didn't. 

He hesitated. 

But not now...he wouldn't.

"I could've killed you that night." He hissed, the static that hung limply in the air became thick, suffocating the large office. "I showed you mercy." 

"Mercy is getting what you don't deserve," Countess said bitterly, stabbing a finger into his chest. "What made you think I deserved _death_ so that you should spare me? I had been nothing but kind to you. I let you into my home, into my _heart_. I didn't deserve betrayal."

"Just becoming your friend was a sacrifice!" Alastor antagonized. "I put everything I had ever accumulated in Hell at risk when I went gallivanting around with you. A simple betrayal is a small comparison."

"A _small_ _comparison_?!" Countess roared, the room shaking with her anger. Tears pricked at the corner of her liquid eyes, and her body was trembling. "I'm the one who sacrificed everything for you. My power, my home, my friend, my life, and my _heart_. I GAVE YOU EVERYTHING I HAD AND IT _STILL_ WASN'T ENOUGH FOR YOU!" 

"Don't raise your voice at me--"

"I CAN DO WHATEVER I WANT!" She screamed, the tears pouring down her cheeks, smearing her mascara. Countess Alastor by his collar, slamming him onto his desk. Papers were dislodged, cascading to the floor. His ink toppled over and spilled over his desk, staining his gloves. 

If she were anyone else, he would've snapped his fingers and decimated her. He would've enjoyed her screams and her blood pooling on the floor. Alastor was sure Countess would taste delicious, her tainted soul filling his with vigor and power. 

But instead, he snarled at her, keeping his shadowy powers locked behind a wall of his stubbornness. If he used magic, he would be letting her win. Alastor just glared at her, his eyes glowing and pulsing, threatening to shrink into those infamous diles. She was _touching him_. He didn't like to be touched. 

"You took _everything from me!_ You gave me nothing but treachery in return! So don't talk to me about _sacrifices_!" Countess snarled, dropping him onto the desk and walking out. She slammed the door behind her, leaving Alastor surprised and shaken. 

What was _that_?

* * *

Sunlit fields carried on to the horizon. Adorned in budding lilies and wildflowers that swayed in the breeze. Infectious pollen drifted through the warm spring air. The perfume drifted through the nose of a little girl, who gazed up at the sun as though it were the only light she ever did see. 

Her luscious raven locks draped over her petite shoulder as she sat in silence. She closed her eyes, letting the chorus of birds drift into her ears, lulling her into a peaceful meditation.

It wasn't until she heard footsteps crashing through the field did she open her eyes. 

She was met with infinite darkness, an inky blackness that seemed to drown her. The fields were gone, the lilies crumbling to ashes. 

The girl, no longer little, but a grown woman struggled to breathe. A warm liquid dropped from her fingers, disappearing into the abyss. 

Blood seeped from her shirt and flowed from her hands...hands which held a knife covered in gore.

She tried to scream but her voice was torn from her, tossing her soul about playfully before she heard a voice. 

”Glenda!” 

It was sweet like honey. It cut through the darkness sharp as the knife she held. 

She gasped when oxygen returned to her deflated lungs, making her vision dance with spots. 

”Glenda!” 

Wood. 

She could smell pine and the tang of blood. She could taste both on her tongue. 

Her nails scraped against the wooden boards. The scent of the woods and old firewood made her believe she was in a forest—no, a cabin. 

Pink, satin curtains tussled from the mountain breeze. It ruffled papers on a small kitchen stove and it was sunset. The red and orange bled through the curtains like a dark omen. 

”Glenda!” 

There was that voice again. She lifted her head, drowning in chocolate eyes lit with fury and terror. The face was shrouded in shadow, every feature but their eyes hidden from her. 

”How could you?!” She heard the figure cry, even though it had no mouth. 

Then, she felt it, more like remembered it. 

The feeling of cold steel on her forehead and the click of the safety. The trembling hands that held the weapon wept endlessly, torn between justice and mercy. 

She tried to reason, tried to explain herself, tried to comfort…

But the bullet exploded from the barrel.

_Jody!_

Countess jolted awake, clutching her chest and calming her nerves.

”Jody…” She whispered breathlessly before sobbing into her claws, letting the grief steal her for another moment longer as she mourned her old friend. 

Her cries echoed across the lonesome walls of her room. 

_What had she done?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah ha! Here it is! THE CHAPTER.  
> Oh, and also Jody.  
> The last part was added last minute. Just for some clarification(it’s just in case) Jody is from Countess’s life on Earth. The only other thing I’ll say about her is that she was Countess’s best friend. The rest is up for you lovely readers to decipher. 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading this little story! I really appreciate it! Please don’t forget to leave a kudos(if you haven’t already) and a comment! I absolutely adore hearing from my readers. I can not stress how much I treasure each and every one of you. Your comments and kudos mean the world to me. Thank you so much for the support and I’ll see you at the next chapter! ❤️


	14. Caution is Advised

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***
> 
> "We were wondering if you could answer some questions for us."
> 
> Rosie blinked twice, pondering the request for a moment too long. "I'm sure whatever questions you have, you can ask him yourself. Alastor confides in me his most personal matters, and it is not my place to tell." 
> 
> "Please, Ms. Rosie? This is really important. It's not even really a secret. We only want to know what happened between Alastor and Countess seventy years ago. He won't tell us anything." Charlie pleaded. "We think this rivalry thing going on between them will cause a lot of issues. Especially for my hotel. Please? We don't know who else to ask." 
> 
> Rosie sighed, hanging her head low. 
> 
> "I suppose I can tell you what I remember from the incident. It's no wonder Alastor won't talk about it. It was extremely...complicated. I'll tell you what I know but no more than that. If Alastor doesn't wish to share it...I can only assume it's for a good reason." 
> 
> ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! I'm so sorry it's late but it's the longest chapter yet. There are lots of reveals in here and this where the party gets STARTED. WHOO! 
> 
> Hope you all enjoy the chapter!
> 
> Also, Happy Valentines Day! <3 *sobs in a corner*

It was an odd little store.

Actually, it wasn't little, it was a lot bigger inside than it was outside.

Charlie was baffled by the assortment of nick nacks and random items in the charming shop. It was a range from gorgeous ballgowns to convenient store key chains. 

Vaggie and Charlie wandered around the store, looking over things for no reason in particular. They were waiting for the owner. 

Her name was Rosie. 

A somewhat peaceful overlord who was a friend of Alastor's. She was powerful, of course, and not to be trifled with, but her power fell short of Alastor's. 

Husk was certain Rosie would know what happened between Alastor and Countess. Besides Countess herself, Alastor confided in Rosie a lot. Rosie was a little bit older, and she was wise beyond her years. In fact, many demons around her emporium came seeking advice and help. It was one reason why here store was so popular. Not only did she sell pretty decent stuff(the most decent you could get in Hell), she was also very personable and easy to talk to. 

"Hello, darlings!" A sweet voice called.

Charlie and Vaggie looked up and noticed a second floor. 

A thin, elegantly dressed she-demon waved from over a marble railing. 

Her eyes were like pools of tar, and her hair was white like cotton. She clicked down the stone stairs enthusiastically, excited to see customers. Her dark eyes landed on Charlie and the widened in surprise. 

"Well, well, well," She breathed, trailing her fingers against the wall. "The princess of Hell! To what do I owe this pleasure?" 

"You're Rosie, right?" Charlie asked shyly, extending her hand. "I'm Charlie, but you already knew that."

"Of course! Everyone knows about the princess of Hell! Especially after that awful news disaster." Rosie chuckled, shaking Charlie's hand. "How are you? I hope the humiliation wasn't too awful."

"We're gaining ground..." Charlie muttered, scratching the back of her neck meekly. 

"That's wonderful to hear! I hope Allie hasn't been too much trouble." 

"Allie?" Vaggie asked, peering over a pair of dress jeans. 

"Oh, my apologies. It's what I call Alastor. He's not fond of the nickname, but that's what makes it more fun." Rosie walked over to Vaggie, studying her choice of attire. "That would look lovely on you, dear." 

"You think?" Vaggie asked, still unsure. 

"Absolutely! And you can have it for free. Any friend of Alastor's is a friend of mine."

"Are you sure?"

Rose nodded her head, the elegant feathers of her hat bouncing slightly. 

Vaggie's face lit up as she took the jeans from the rack, tucking them underneath her arm.

"Speaking of Alastor," Charlie started. "We were wondering if you could answer some questions for us."

Rosie blinked twice, pondering the request for a moment too long. "I'm sure whatever questions you have, you can ask him yourself. Alastor confides in me his most personal matters, and it is not my place to tell." 

"Please, Ms. Rosie? This is really important. It's not even really a secret. We only want to know what happened between Alastor and Countess seventy years ago. He won't tell us anything." Charlie pleaded. "We think this rivalry thing going on between them will cause a lot of issues. Especially for my hotel. Please? We don't know who else to ask." 

Rosie sighed, hanging her head low. 

"I suppose I can tell you what I remember from the incident. It's no wonder Alastor won't talk about it. It was extremely...complicated. I'll tell you what I know but no more than that. If Alastor doesn't wish to share it...I can only assume it's for a good reason." 

"Thank you so much, Ms. Rosie. We really appreciate it." Charlie said, taking Vaggie's hand.

"It's no problem. Come along, dears." She said, walking back up the marble staircase and to the upper floor. "This is going to be a long story, and I suggest we discuss it over tea and pastries." 

Charlie and Vaggie followed her up to the second floor. This was probably where Rosie slept and cooked her meals. There were about three rooms in the spacious loft. One led to a kitchen. It was a decent size, big enough to fit about four people side by side. Rosie sat Vaggie and Charlie down in a small dining room just off the left of the loft. 

The table was small and would seat about three people, which was perfect. 

While Charlie and Vaggie sat at the table, whispering about their theories, Rosie returned with a steaming pot of tea and a plate of assorted pastries. She set them down in the middle of the table and then took a seat at the end. 

She smoothed out her beautiful dress before clearing her throat, politely. 

Charlie reached for a powdered donut and munched on it happily. She loved sweet things. 

"What do you want to know?" Rosie asked, pouring three cups of tea and dispersing them between the girls. 

"Everything you can tell us," Vaggie said, retrieving her teacup and taking a sip. 

"Very well, then," Rosie said, tapping a single finger on the table. "It all began in 1951. Countess was popular then, the talk of Hell. Lucifer decided to hold a party at Countess's estate for all of the overlords. I suppose it was his way of checking in on us."

"I remember that party!" Charlie exclaimed, grabbing another donut. "Dad begged me to go, but I didn't want to." 

Rosie nodded, continuing with her story. "Countess was a fine hostess. She chatted here and there, but she mostly kept to herself. Alastor and I stuck together, trying to avoid certain overlords that we didn't like. It wasn't until I found an old friend and left Alastor to his own devices that he noticed Countess. After the party, he would not stop raving about her. Countess this, Countess that. I started to think he had an obsession.

"About a week later, he went to her estate to personally invite her to one of our get-togethers. We did it every Sunday, and we did all sorts of things. Sometimes we went on long walks, picnics, and occasionally went on a  _ killing spree _ ." Rosie paused, mulling the words over in her head. "I suppose that's the right word. Alastor always enjoyed randomly slaughtering the denizens of Hell. We helped him, of course. It made him happy. Who were we to stop him?"

Vaggie rolled her eyes, mumbling something under her breath. 

Rosie's eyebrows rose, and her eyes lidded over, watching the moth demon in amusement. 

"Yes. Well, whatever happened at Countess's estate is beyond me, but he returned with her, and we all decided to go to Mimzy's little club." 

"Sorry for interrupting, but who's Mimzy?" Charlie asked.

"Mimzy is another one of Alastor's friends. She's an excitable little thing but an excellent singer. She runs the finest club in Hell or at least one that Alastor will actually attend. He's always been picky about the establishments he regulars." Rosie shook her head, chuckling softly. "Anyway, we went there, and he walked her home. I don't know what happened then, but he began to invite her more and more. Soon enough, he would go out of his way to see her, and when he wasn't around her, he  _ planned _ to see her. He was always a night owl so, that's when they mostly talked. It was until about three years later that Alastor told me the truth about why he kept Countess so close."

"What was that?" Vaggie asked, leaning on the edge of her seat. They were so close to getting the answers. Only a few more words away.

"It's because he wanted her power...or at least, that's what he thought," Rosie said.

"That's what he thought?" Charlie questioned through a mouthful of donut. She swallowed quickly, apologizing for her terrible manners. 

"Well, it's what he swore he thought, but I always knew there was something more to it," Rosie replied thoughtfully. "He confirmed my suspicions after the night he betrayed her. Normally, Alastor would've killed her and taken her power. He didn't, though. He just left her there and never saw her again...until now, that is." 

"Wow," Vaggie breathed, leaning back in her chair. "Do you know any more?"

Rosie shook her head. "I'm afraid not. He stopped talking about her after that. Every time I brought up her name, he just fell into this hazy attitude. Which makes for horrible company." 

Charlie looked down at the last donut, biting her lip nervously. 

Rosie had helped clear up a lot of the mystery, but there was still so much they didn't know. In fact, this just left more questions than answers. Why did Alastor betray Countess? It sounded like they were really good friends. Alastor didn't betray his other friends so, what made Countess any different? There was something they were missing, and it seemed important. If Rosie couldn't give them the answers, then maybe someone else could. 

"You've been very helpful and we can't thank you enough," Charlie said gratefully, smiling warmly at the other demoness. "But is there anyone else who might know more?"

Rosie thought for a moment before answering. "Mimzy would be my best bet. Alastor and I may talk a lot over tea and coffee, but Mimzy and he have been friends far longer than I. Mimzy is very perceptive and knows Alastor inside and out. I'm surprised Husk didn't send you to her first."

"How did you--" Vaggie began but Rosie held up a patient finger to silence her. 

"Who else would send you? Husk is rough around the edges, but he does actually care. Especially when his own welfare is threatened. Or perhaps it's because he's actually fond of Alastor. I was never able to get anything out Husk, he's like a brick wall." 

"Thank you so much, Ms. Rosie," Charlie thanked. "If it isn't too much trouble, could you tell us where Mimzy lives?"

Rosie snapped her fingers, standing up from her chair abruptly. "I can do better than that, lovely Charlie! I can take you there myself. It's been a long time since I've seen little Mimzy, it'll be nice to talk to her again." Rosie motioned the two girls over to her bedroom. "Come now, walk fast! We don't want to catch her during one of her performances. You'd never be able to speak to her then." 

Rosie opened up her door to her bedroom, revealing a modest living space. She had a bed, a window overlooking the city, a closet, and a tall mirror. 

Rosie walked up to the mirror, pulling out her umbrella which has been resting against the bedpost. She tapped it once, the glass rippling like water. She unfurled her umbrella, extended a pale hand.

"Take my hand, dears. Sometimes the mirror is temperamental and I don't want to lose you. You can't navigate the mirror dimension without my lovely umbrella."

Charlie and Vaggie both took her hand hesitantly before they were tugged straight through the mirror. 

Vaggie screamed loudly as the soared through a cold land filled with reflective glass. 

It felt like being dowsed in cold water. Charlie's arms erupted into goosebumps but she marveled at the dimension around her. It was constantly shifting, prism-like pieces of glass morphing and shaping around her. Some were obviously mirror shaped and showing the outside world. She passed by one mirror that looked a lot like the one in her room back home. It probably was but before she could look in, she was whisked away.

As soon as they were in, they were out. 

Vaggie landed on the floor, gasping and heaving on her knees. 

Charlie shook her head, chasing the cold away with a few arm rubs. 

"I don't want to do that  _ ever  _ again," Vaggie said breathlessly, her pink and white eyes wide. 

"It gets easier the more and more you do it," Rosie reassured, helping Vaggie to her feet. 

"Where are we?" Charlie asked, looking around her.

"It appears to be a sanitation closet," Rosie whispered, picking up a spray bottle from one of the shelves. "I always find this mirror in different places. Mimzy likes to keep me on my toes." 

"Why would she put it in a closet, though?"

Rosie shrugged her shoulders, huffing slightly. "Probably to spite me. I haven't visited in so long, and Mimzy doesn't like being ignored."

The door to the closet swung open aggressively, nearly being torn from its hinges. A short and stout demon glared into the closet, her pink eyes glowing in the dark. 

Upon seeing Rosie tucked away in a corner, her face burst into infectious happiness. She dashed into the room and lifted Rosie into a big hug. 

"Oh, Rosie! I haven't seen you in so long!" She cried out.

"Hello, Mimzy," Rosie replied calmly, hugging back. "It's good to see you."

"It's good to see you too, sugar!" Mimzy exclaimed rather loudly. She looked around the room, spotting Charlie and Vaggie standing sheepishly aside. "Oh my! The princess of Hell?"

"Yes," Charlie said, stepping forward and pulling a strand of golden hair from her face. "I'm Charlie and we're here to ask you some questions." 

Mimzy placed her dainty hands on her hips, a pout adorning her lovely features. "Aren't you here for the show?"

"No--" Vaggie started before Charlie dashed in front of her quickly. 

"Uh, maybe after we ask our questions? They're super fast, I promise." 

"All right, fine. But after your questions, you get to stay for the show!" Mimzy complained, leading everyone out of the closet.

"Thank you," Charlie said. 

Mimzy turned to Rosie, smiling again. "Did ya like the closet?"

"I have to say it was a surprise." Rosie chuckled lightly, hoisting her closed umbrella over her shoulders. "But I have to ask, why a closet?"

"You haven't visited me in so long! I thought putting the mirror in a cleaning closet would put you straight." Mimzy winked at Charlie playfully. Charlie smiled and leaned down to whisper to Vaggie. 

"I can see why she and Alastor are friends." 

Vaggie narrowed her eyes. "I don't like her. I have a bad feeling about her."

"You have a bad feeling about  _ everyone _ , Vag. She doesn't seem so awful." Charlie sighed, looking up to watch Mimzy chat with Rosie. "She seems really sweet."

"So does Alastor," Vaggie grumbled, crossing her arms. 

"Yeah, but we know his background."

"We don't know hers."

"Vaggie..."

"I'm just saying," Vaggie said, stealing a glare at the two demons in front of them. "Any friend of Alastor's must be dangerous. He wouldn't surround himself with a bunch of people lower than him. Besides, what about that mirror thing? We were too vulnerable. That Rosie lady could've dropped us at any time."

"But she didn't. Not everyone is against us, Vaggie. Even in Hell." 

Vaggie looked away, unsure if she believed Charlie. 

"It's all going to be okay. I promise." Charlie pulled Vaggie into a side hug. 

Vaggie melted into her side, sighing happily. "Okay." 

Mimzy led them into a small room. It looked like a lounge room for the performers. Some costumes were draped here and there over chairs and tables but the couches were free to sit on. 

The couches were arranged in a circle around a wooden coffee table that had a stack of papers organized neatly on top. 

Mimzy plopped down on a couch across from Vaggie and Charlie. 

The two girls sat down next to Rosie who was sitting on the couch opposite Mimzy. 

"So? Let's get to your questions! I have a show to run tonight." Mimzy leaned back in her couch, settling down comfortably. "This show is going to be hoppin'!" 

"Uh, okay." Charlie stumbled over her words, put off by Mimzy's extremely excitable attitude. 

Vaggie jumped in to save her. "We want to know what happened between Countess and Alastor."

Mimzy's expression darkened, her bright smile falling into a frown. Her eyes became solemn and she looked down at the ground in front of her. Her shoulders wilted slightly and she let out a shaky breath.

"Oh," Was all she said. She looked quickly at Rosie and back down. "I'm assuming you talked to Rosie first." 

"Yes," Charlie finally spoke up sweetly. "If it's too painful to remember you don't have to--"

"No, no," Mimzy said, shaking her head. "It's about time the truth got out there. Alastor's been hiding it for so long...I'd almost think he was ashamed of it!" 

"But that's unlike Alastor." Rosie interceded politely. 

"Yep," Mimzy said, perking up slightly. "I'm sure Rosie told you what happened as events occur but I'm also sure she didn't know much about the aftermath or the why."

"Correct," Rosie confirmed. 

"Well, then, I'll guess I'll start the night before the betrayal." Mimzy's eyes clouded over as she remembered something that had happened so long ago. "His original plan was to get close to Countess so he could catch her off guard. Initially, he wanted to destroy her. He wanted to be known as the most powerful demon in Hell. Second to the Magne family, of course.

"He knew he couldn't beat her like he normally beat other overlords. Countess was stronger than him. Not by a lot but by enough that he could lose. Alastor was never one to take chances. So, instead, he felt it would be better if he made her trust him. That way, he could strike and she wouldn't have enough time to recover. It was really simple, actually, but the hard part was getting her to like him." Mimzy paused, looking at Rosie expectantly. 

Rosie cleared her throat. "Countess has always been a mysterious creature. She hardly frequented open streets and you never saw her around other demons. She kept mostly to herself, save for her occasional dinners with Charlie's family."

Charlie nodded. "It's how I got to know her." 

Mimzy smiled small. "Right. It took him about two years to finally gain her trust. But in that time, he found he enjoyed her company and friendship. Alastor would often come to me about his doubts. It confused him a lot. He's never been one to doubt his actions. He's always sure about what he's doing, and he never apologizes. It surprised both of us when he started to have concerns. It was really hard for him. He'd made a deal with Lucifer so he--"

"Wait, what?" Charlie exclaimed.

"You didn't know that?" Rosie asked, leaning over to look Charlie in the eye.

"No! I had no idea my dad made a deal with Alastor." Charlie crossed her arms and a pout laced her lips. "Hypocrite." 

Mimzy stared at Charlie for a moment before continuing. "Well, I guess I should backtrack then. The night Alastor first saw Countess, which was at the dance, he and Lucifer made a deal. Well, it was more of a dare, but you all know how Alastor is. Basically, if Alastor defeated Countess, Lucifer would give him something he desired. Alastor never told me what that was...he never talked about what he wanted in return."

"So, this all started because Charlie's dad  _ dared  _ Alastor? This all happened because of a  _ dare _ ?" Vaggie was dumbfounded. She couldn't believe what she was hearing! Their hotel and everyone in it was in danger because of two grown men acting like children? "This is ridiculous!" 

Mimzy giggled quietly at Vaggie's outburst. "Yes, it does sound really silly now that I say it out loud."

"It's  _ stupid _ , is what it is. You think both of them would be smarter." Vaggie grumbled. "Sorry, I interrupted you, keep going."

"Okay," Mimzy chuckled. "Where was I? Oh, yes! But since he was  _ dared  _ by Lucifer, he couldn't back out. A deal is a deal. So, despite how he felt, he had to destroy her. It was 1953 when it happened. They had been friends for a year and a half. Countess had especially attached to Alastor. If someone saw them together, they would've assumed they were courting." Mimzy paused to stare accusingly at Vaggie and Charlie. "Do  _ not  _ tell him that. He'll have a conniption. He doesn't know people thought that and he still doesn't. This stays between the four of us. Understand?" 

Vaggie and Charlie nod quickly, not wanting to provoke Mmizy. Who knew such a small, cheerful lady could turn sour so quick?

"Okay, good! I don't want Al upset with me. As I was saying before, some thought they were much closer than friends. On that day, Alastor said he needed to tell Countess something privately. They met at her estate. A couple of hours before that, Alastor bought a special weapon." Mimzy's eyes became distraught as she struggled to continue the story. "It was one of a kind. He was the only demon ever to figure out what made Countess so powerful. This weapon blocked her powers, in a way. It was shaped like a knife, jagged and curved. It was an ugly thing and just looking at it sent shivers down my spine."

Vaggie looked at Charlie. "Have you ever heard of anything like that?"

Charlie shook her head. "No. But I've also never heard of a demon, besides my dad, who has powers like Countess. But my dad is the king of Hell, so it makes sense." 

"Was it a holy weapon? Like the spears and swords, the angels leave behind?" Vaggie asked Mimzy. 

"I don't know," Mimzy said sadly, shaking her pale hair. "After he used it, I never saw it again."

"What did he do with it?" Charlie urged.

"He never told me that. Only that he never used it to kill her like he was supposed to." Mimzy started to twiddle with her fingers nervously. "But what happened that night was so severe that Countess hid for  _ seventy years. _ I can't imagine the revenge she's been plotting after all that time."

"Revenge?" Vaggie asked warily. 

"Of course! If an overlord is spared in a fight, they normally take revenge. It's rare, but it does happen."

"What could this revenge entail?" This time Rosie spoke up, her curiosity piqued. 

"I don't know. It would have to be related to whatever happened that night but Al won't tell me about it." Mimzy said. "The only thing I know is that Countess will make sure that Alastor suffers the same way she has. I don't see how. He's not nearly as emotional as her."

Charlie was about to ask a question when Mimzy clapped her hands loudly. 

"Let's stop talking about depressing things! I have a shindig to run, and you all are here to watch it!" Mimzy squealed, standing up abruptly and pushing everyone out of the door. "Now, get out! I have to get ready."

When she shut the door, she leaned against it, sliding down to her knees.

Oh god...

What had Al gotten himself into?

Rosie stared at the door for a while before turning to Vaggie and Charlie.

"All things considered, I think caution is advised from here on out. Countess is explosive and Alastor's not wonderful at holding back either." Rosie shook her head. "Look's like you two got your work cut out you." 

Charlie watched Rosie walk away, her arms trembling.

The hotel was in  _ danger _ . The only problem was, they didn't know what kind of danger. How could they stop someone so powerful? How were they gonna know what she was going to do next? 

Vaggie took a hold of Charlie's cold hand, squeezing it affectionately. 

"I can't tell you we're going to be okay." Vaggie sighed, her eyes trailing the ground. "And I can't tell you we can handle it...but we don't have to worry about it until something goes wrong. Countess really likes you, and I'm sure she won't do anything to hurt you. As dangerous as she is, she's also smart. She also cares. We'll talk to them about this later. We just gotta hope it isn't too late."

Charlie pulled Vaggie into a hug, breathing in her scent.

"Thank you," She whispered.

They stayed like that, hugging in the hallway for a single moment until they walked together to watch Mimzy's show. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo! WHOO! HOO! 
> 
> Alright! I have something to say. 
> 
> You all are freaking amazing and I want to treat you all to something amazing(just like you.) I want to do a 100 kudos special! ...I just don't know what to do... If you all have anything you would like to see for a special chapter(or anything else. I draw a lot so if you want to see any art I'll slap it on here, too), shoot me a comment! I'll make a post about it and narrow it down to three choices and we'll have a vote. If I don't get any comments...then I dunno. I'll probably won't do a special. I just thought it would be a nice thing to do for all of my wonderful readers. Because I actually do appreciate all of you guys. Like, I don't know how many times I can say before I'm satisfied. You all are so wonderful and I am so humbled that anyone has read this story.
> 
> My friend and I are both very grateful for your support. Be it verbally or just by giving kudos. I love all of you and I want you to know that.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading. Don't forget those kudos and those comments. I love all of them and I literally die of joy when I see them. 
> 
> Have a wonderful day and I'll see you soon.
> 
> ...hopefully. XD


	15. My Darling Dragonet(100 Kudos Special)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The special is here!   
> Have some Alastor and Countess FLUFF.   
> At least, I hope it's fluff. I'm awful at writing sweet things...  
> Give me angst any day. XD 
> 
> I hope you all like it! 
> 
> Thank you to Spyno41 and Sil. for requesting a special chapter!   
> This one is for my lovely readers! If we hit 200, we might get another one. ;)

** 1951, Hell, Countess's Estate **

It was a bitter, cold afternoon. The chill would bite into one's flesh, leaving nothing but red marks and white puffs of breath into the still air. 

Countess was hiding from the frigid temperature in the comfort and warmth of her estate. The fireplace sputtered and coughed sparks, lighting the living room up with a soft, orange glow. Her dark fingers trembled against the hot ceramic of a mug of cider. She blew on it softly, stirring the rusty surface. 

It seemed the area of Hell where Countess lived was always cold as if taunting her. How she longed for the pearly white sheets of snow to adorn the crimson streets, but alas, that would never happen. 

A knock at the door caught her attention. Her ears flicked towards the sound, her head following.

From the blur of the window, a red blob smiled through. The distorted red blob outside of the door was none other than Alastor. Of course, it was, his smile was practically glowing. She could recognize that smile from space. 

She waved her hand, the lock clicking and the door swinging open. Alastor's teeth chattered before he promptly shook his head, dislodging crystallized ice from his fluffy ears. 

"Thank you, darling!" He cheered, shivering only slightly. "I would say it's a blizzard out there, but it's not snowing! Nevertheless, one more minute out there, and I would've frozen!" 

"Of course, Alastor. It's always a pleasure to see your smiling face." She took a sip of her cider with a grin dancing on her delicate lips. "Is there any particular reason for your impromptu visit?"

He didn't answer, just hung his coat on the rack, and glanced around the mansion. "Where is your tiny rodent?" He asked. 

"Rudy?" Countess tapped the mug before setting it down on a small table beside her. "She's out getting milk. This is the fourth time she's asked today. I'm starting to think she uses it as an excuse to drive the new hearse I gave her."

"Well! You certainly have plenty of milk!" Alastor shouted from the kitchen off to the right. 

"How much is in there?" Countess asked as Alastor's head peeped around the corner. 

"Depending on how much you enjoy milk, about two months' worth!"

Countess pressed a finger to the middle of her forehead in frustration. "Oh, mon gracieux! This is getting out of hand!" 

Alastor's ears perked, his eyes widening slightly. "You speak French?" 

"Oui, je parle très bien français." Countess replied, nodding her head. "I am a woman of many talents."

"Do you know any more?" He asked, coming to sit down beside her in front of the fire.

"Yes. I know Spanish, Portuguese, German, Russian, and a little bit of Mandarin." 

"A woman of many talents, indeed! Didn't you say you were also a dancer?" 

"Oh, dear." Countess shook her head. "Yes, but I'm not very good. There's a reason why I stopped taking ballet classes."

"Nonsense, darling!" Alastor stood abruptly, extending his slender palm. "I'm sure you're a wonderful dancer! I'd love to see you dance!" 

"No, no, no." Countess waved her hands slightly, a blush dusting her cheeks. "Really, no, I'm not--"

He snatched her hand and yanked her up harshly from her seat. Countess stood for a moment, frazzled before blinking up at Alastor. 

"I insist." He spoke lowly, a rumble resounding from the back of his throat. It wasn't a threat, but he wasn't asking either. 

"Alright," Countess caved and walked over to the ballroom. "I'm not dancing in the living room, though, there are too many breakable things." 

"Wise choice." 

Countess shoved the double doors to the ballroom open, revealing the large open space. The floors were like shimmering gold, reflecting the diamond chandelier hanging from the ceiling like glass. The walls were a glorious white, designed in elegant patterns the Romans would have envied. There was a large bar snuggled in the far right of the ballroom, and to the left was a small stage for performing bands. 

There were only three windows in the room, but they were big enough to bath the ballroom in sparkling light. 

It was magnificent, and everyone who ever visited it said so. 

Alastor's eyes were gleaming with elation, and he took a deep breath. "I forgot how lovely it was."

Countess narrowed her eyes. "Were you at the party a few months ago?"

"Of course! That's when I first saw you."

"Why did you never speak to me, then?" 

Alastor blinked, his smile closing in contemplation. "Truly a mystery, I suppose."

Countess hummed suspiciously, walking over to the bar, her heels echoing against the walls. On the bar was a record player, a few discs cast aside to it. She sorted through them, unable to decide.

"Alastor, would you like to pick a song?" 

"Sure!" He said, walking over quickly and bending over the choices. "Why don't you get prepared while I choose?" 

Countess hesitated but agreed reluctantly, walking out to the middle. She removed her heels, biting her lower lip cautiously. It was a good thing she had decided not to wear her gown today. Instead, she sported a loose blue skirt with a white blouse. It was flexible attire and perfect for moving. As beautiful as her gown was, it was not the best for recreational activities. 

Alastor sifted through the records, finally selecting one he liked.

Countess tapped her right foot on the floor twice before looking up at Alastor. 

They locked eyes.

She was definitely going to regret this later.

She closed her eyes, ceasing contact with him before she readied herself for music. 

When the music turned on, a tingling started up in her spine as a fire lit in her stomach. The music twinged something inside her, a dangerous and primal instinct. 

Her eyes snapped open, and the record player snapped in two beneath her heavy gaze. 

Darkness crept up her pale pink arms and she began to breathe heavily. Innumerable awful memories began to plague her mind but she did not fall into terror, instead, it kindled into fury.

"Did you just play... _ jazz? _ '' She hissed, her fangs grinding. 

"Yes?" Alastor replied, surprised. He looked despondently at the destroyed record player. "Is there are a problem?"

"Why would you play  _ jazz _ ?"

"I love jazz!" 

Countess shuddered, her anger seeping away. "I  _ hate _ jazz..."

"What?" Alastor tapped his chin thoughtfully. "You hate jazz?"

" _ Despise _ it. It's atrocious. Nothing but a couple of haphazardly thrown notes that dissonate against each other. It grinds against my ears, and it's just plain  _ awful."  _

Alastor hummed softly. "But don't you like swing music?"

"I love swing. It's fun."

"Swing is a subsection of jazz, Countess." He stated matter of factly.

"No, it's not. Jazz and swing are completely different." She crossed her arms tightly. "Jazz sounds like a child composed it and swing sounds like a fun rhythm with carefully planned execution. They are not the same." 

"I never said they were the same--"

"Jazz can not be associated with swing music! And that's final!" 

Alastor blinked slowly, breathing in deeply. "You confuse me."

"Fine by me." Countess huffed. 

"Jazz and swing are--"

"Don't care."

"Darling--"

"I thought I told you not to call me that." She snapped. "That's too intimate of a word, and you throw it around as if it's casual. As if it means nothing." 

"I don't see why it bothers you."

"Well, it does! So, please, respect my decision." 

Alastor took in a shaky sigh, trying to calm his irritation. 

Silence echoed across the ballroom until Countess finally spoke up. 

"Why would you even play jazz to ballet? That's simply ridiculous." 

"Are we really back to this again?" Alastor sighed tiredly, his smile twitching slightly. 

"Don't use that tone with me. Just pick a different song, and I'll dance to it."

"It's a little late for that, dear." Alastor gestured at the debris of the record player. "You've destroyed the only thing that produces music." 

Countess grimaced, finally realizing what her anger had caused. "Oh... My bad." 

More silence.

"I'll just fix it."

"Now?"

"Yes, now!" Countess rolled her eyes, snapping her fingers once. The player pieces rose from the bar, surrounded in a glowing orange aura. They slowly began to meld together, attaching and reforming the record player. Once it was finished, Countess took the repaired jazz disc, shattered it, and then sucked it into oblivion. Jazz would  _ not _ be played in her house. "There good as new."

"Remarkable." Alastor breathed, circling the newly reconstructed player. "Were those your reality powers?"

"Maybe?" Countess shifted her weight slightly. "I'm not exactly certain how to summon them. I don't know I'm using them until it's over." 

"Fascinating."

"Yeah..." 

"I believe you still owe me a dance?" Alastor asked, a brow rising slowly. 

Countess rolled her eyes, a smile dancing on her lips. With one flick of her wrist, a disc flew into the air and placed itself onto the player. The disc began to spin, playing classical piano music.

"I-is that Beethoven?" Alastor asked. 

"Yes? Is there a problem?"

"No!" Alastor sang. "I was only wondering." 

Countess narrowed her eyes, turning around, but still keeping a watchful eye on him. 

She remembered this song, she had done a dance recital to it when she was younger.  _ Much  _ younger. Perhaps at the age of seven. Surprisingly, she remembered every dance, every lilt in the song had a specific movement. So, she closed her eyes, losing herself in the music and letting memory take over. Her feet moved all on their own, rising to her toes, bending her knees before coming up again slowly. 

She spun around, legs tight and locked into an upright position. Her knees bent, her right leg tilting up and over before she spun again. Then, she jumped into the air, her ankles knocking against each other before she cushioned her fall. 

Alastor watched in wonder as Countess seemingly cut through the air. Her movements were precise, and practiced, every part of her completing every move with flawless effort. She was gracefully dangerous. Her physical prowess held merit in this case, her lean muscles stretching and flexing, allowing her to soar through open air and land like a feather on the ground. It was...remarkable. Not her skill, but the mere fact that  _ this _ was Countess. This was the same hotheaded demon who, with a mere blink of an eye, could crush a record player like it was paper. She seemed so serene and calm, an expression she rarely displayed. It was a show of vulnerability and weakness, and she was showing it to him.

And  _ only _ to him. 

When she finished, she threw her arm out, holding the pose before coming down. A red flush dusted her delicate cheeks and she was breathing heavily. She hadn't danced like that in years. It felt nice. 

Alastor clapped vigorously, the sound concussed sharply around the walls of the ballroom. Countess winced as her sensitive ears began to ring slightly.

"Splendid! Wonderful!" He cheered, walking over to her. "How do you do it? Absolutely marvelous."

"How I do it?" Countess asked, looking away from him. "I don't know. It's just natural at this point. Even after all these years."

"I simply can not fathom it." 

"D-do you want me to teach you?"

Alastor blinked, his brain pausing for a moment before it rebooted. Did she just ask him to dance? Did she just ask him if he wanted to learn  _ ballet _ ? He ought to say no. Duet ballet required lots of touching, something he was not entirely fond of. He despised touch not initiated by him. It was uncomfortable, and people's hands were often nervous and clammy when they touched him, and it was--gross. 

And yet...

It was only Countess.

"Yes!" 

He was most definitely going to regret this later. 

She hesitated slightly before gently grabbing his arm.

Countess was trying to be careful, she knew Alastor didn't like physical touch and for him to let her do this was nothing short of a miracle. She would not waste this opportunity and lose his trust. Despite only knowing him for a few months, his trust meant everything to her. She'd be damned to let him slip away. 

"Here, mimic my movements," Countess said, backing away from him and standing in front of him. "We'll start with the basics."

Countess positioned her feet and squatted down, extending her arm out in front of her. "This is a plié. It's one of the simplest ballet moves. It's the one beginners always start with and--"

Countess had to hold back a giggle as Alastor nearly fell over his own feet. His long legs stumbled and fought to regain his balance. 

He looked like a fawn learning to walk. Which so adorably fitting considering how he looked similar to a deer. 

"No, no," She chuckled, reaching out to steady him. "Like this." 

She took his hand and extended it out. "Now, make sure your toes are apart from each other, yes, like that."

She praised him when he successfully got himself into the right position. 

"Now, just, bend your knees and extend your arm." Alastor looked at her, almost like a plead. This was so helplessly adorable. "Slowly," she added to ease him.

She held his waist as he bent down ever so slowly. His eyes were tight with concentration. Countess had never seen him struggle so much. 

When he finally came up, his ruby eyes lit with glee.

"I did it! Ha!" He celebrated. "I think I can do it on my own now, dear."

Countess stepped away, releasing her hold. "If you say so."

"I do." Alastor nodded before dipping into the plié again.

It wasn't graceful by any means. He was wobbly and unsure, but he did the move triumphantly. 

They moved on to other techniques shortly after that until he was following her movements nearly perfect. They were in tandem with each other, following the other around the ballroom. Their jumps were in perfect sync, their landings barely echoing each other. Their minds reflected in perfect harmony. It was beautiful, and it made her heart soar in her chest. 

She'd never felt so alive, even in death.

They were so connected, and everything felt... _ right _ .

It wasn't until she lost her footing did everything snap back to reality. Her arms flailed around her in a desperate attempt to catch her balance. It was to no avail but two surprisingly strong arms caught her just in time. 

Alastor and Countess stood there silently, breathing heavily and staring at each other. His face was so close to hers, she could feel his warm, heavy pants against her cheeks. His ears and hair were touseled from physical labor and small beads of seat glistened down his forehead. 

He looked utterly gorgeous in the golden light.

He looked unreal.

A fantasy only twelve-year-old her could conjure up. 

_ Her knight in shining armor.  _

Alastor smiled happily, his teeth nearly glowing in the shadows. 

"You're a lovely dancer, Countess." He was practically beaming at her. 

"And you're a lovely partner." She gasped out, breathless. 

His eyes widened in surprise, and she realized the weight of what she had just said. 

Countess shoved Alastor off of her, nervously fumbling for her words. "I-I didn't mean  _ partner  _ like that! I meant like a dancing partner! You're a lovely  _ dancing partner _ !" 

"Of course, what else would you have meant?" He asked, tilting his head in curiosity. 

Countess suddenly blushed, covering her face in her hands. She nearly cried in frustration. The heat was blossoming in her cheeks and she groaned in exasperation. 

"Nothing, nothing. I didn't mean anything else." She sighed helplessly. 

Alastor parted Countess's hands, pulling a piece of her pale blue hair from her flustered face. "My darling dragonet, don't be so worried. Words don't mean as much as we think they do."

Countess blinked away the tears that blurred her visions. "What did you just say?"

"Words don't mean--"

"No, not that. What did you call me?"

"Dragonet?" 

"Isn't that a fish?" Countess asked, a slight bubble of mirth beginning to surface. 

"Is it?" He asked. "I thought it meant 'small dragon'. Which is what you are, dear." 

"B-but you also said--"

Alastor patted her cheek, silencing her. "Words don't mean as much as we think they do." He winked at her. "I'm sorry to say, but I believe I'm long past due at Mimzy's. She'll be furious that I'm late, and I'd like to survive the rest of my afterlife." 

He pulled her dainty hand up to his mouth, giving a small kiss. 

Electricity shot through her arm, a flood of goosebumps traveling in its wake. 

God, she could've melted right then and there. It was a miracle she didn't turn into a puddle of Countess-goo. 

In a puff of crimson smoke, he disappeared, leaving Countess alone in the ballroom.

She was frozen in place, her mind trying desperately to piece together everything that had just happened. 

Countess frantically tried to remember every memory, every detail. 

She didn't want to forget this day.

It was one of the best moments she'd ever had. In life or after. 

And she'd shared it with  _ him _ .

She felt like a giddy school girl, a flurry of giggle bursting from her lips. She jumped around in happy circles, crying out into the empty ballroom.

Rudy opened the door slightly, watching as Countess did what only she could determine as a 'happy dance'. 

_ What the hell did I miss? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the dance inspiration for the chapter: 
> 
> Countess's Dance(only Seon Meen): https://youtu.be/SLO4n90401A?t=425
> 
> Countess and Alastor's Dance: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oIuFucW6vgw&feature=youtu.be&t=128
> 
> \---
> 
> I thought it was sorta cute... I hope you all liked this sickeningly sweet chapter! I'm still working on the next one so, hopefully, I'll have it up soon.
> 
> Love you all! YOU'RE WONDERFUL! Don't forget to leave a comment and kudos! I love those too! XD


	16. Time For a Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >:)

It was there.

The hotel was still standing.

There wasn't fire consuming it, it wasn't lying in a pile of debris, and it wasn't completely  _ gone _ . It looked the same from the outside as Charlie and Vaggie unpacked all their things.

They were gone for about three days. Mimzy insisted that they stay at a hotel near her club in case they had any more questions. They did have more questions, but they were mostly about Alastor. Small things like if he had any more friends, where he lived, and his powers. Mimzy knew the answer to a lot of them, but there was one she didn't know. 

Why Alastor couldn't kill Countess.

That was the last question they asked. Mimzy needed time to calm down after the big reveal. The memories were painful to remember.

Mimzy didn't have an answer for them, and she was pretty sure Alastor wouldn't either. It was a puzzling thing. But Mimzy told them one thing, ever since that night in 1953, it's followed Alastor ever since. 

The inside of the hotel was just the way they left it. Everything was in its place, even the people. 

Husk was at the bar, as customary, and Angel Dust was harassing him.

Niffty was talking with Rudy by the fireplace.

Countess was reading a book on one of the lounge sofas and Alastor...

Was nowhere to be found.

But there was one thing different about the hotel.

The atmosphere was remarkably tense. 

Countess looked up from her book when she heard the door close. She smiled at Charlie. 

"Good to see you're back," She said happily. 

"It's good to be back!" Charlie breathed in the hotel air. "How are the patients?"

"They're doing great." Countess nodded, closing her book. "How was your trip?"

"It was..." Charlie glanced at Vagging knowingly. "Educational."

"Did you get any new sponsors?"

Charlie tensed. 

She had forgotten about their excuse. The truth was, they had absolutely nothing close to that. They had forgotten to ask around during their three-day trip. They were too busy trying to find out how to keep the hotel safe. 

"We uh--"

"They've got one!" A voice sang, and it floated through the air like warm sunshine. "Me!" 

Charlie looked behind her and saw Mimzy posing dramatically in the doorway. 

"And me, of course," Rosie said, appearing behind her and folding her umbrella. "How could I not support dear Alastor?" 

"Rosie? Mimzy?" Countess gasped, standing up from the sofa. 

Rudy glanced over her shoulder, her orange eyes widening in surprise before Niffty tugged on her sleeve, turning her attention back to the energetic cyclops. 

"Countess!" Mimzy cried, dashing towards the dragon-demon. 

Mimzy tackled Countess in a warm embrace, practically picking up the taller demon and spinning her around. 

"You're looking wonderful, Countess," Rosie said, walking in the door. 

"You two are the sponsors?" Countess asked.

She looked at Charlie and Vaggie.

They shrugged. They were just as surprised as Countess was. 

"Rosie, my darling!" 

Countess snarled, stiffening into Mimzy's embrace. Countess peeled herself away from Mimzy, dodging Alastor's arms. 

Alastor swept Rosie by the waist, pulling her into a quick hug. 

"Allie, dearest. How are you?" Rosie asked, kissing his cheek.

He grimaced slightly, his lips curling back. "Must you always call me that?"

"Of course!" Rosie glanced over Alastor's shoulder, watching Countess stiffen under her watchful gaze. "I'm afraid we must leave promptly, though. We only wanted to see the hotel we agreed to sponsor. We'll be keeping in touch with you, Countess, to discuss costs and activities." 

Countess nodded professionally, folding her arms over her chest. 

Rosie pinched Alastor's cheek, knowing he hated it. She patted his shoulder, walking towards the door. "I'll see you soon, Alastor."

"Goodbye, lovely Rosie!" 

"AL!"

Alastor glanced down at Mimzy, a fat pout on her plump lips.

"Aren't you going to say hi to me?" She huffed angrily. 

Alastor took Mimzy's hand, placing a small kiss on it and winking slyly. "Hello, Mimzy. It was wonderful to see you again."

"Mimzy!" Rosie called from the door. "We have to leave."

"Oh, darn." Mimzy sighed, smiling big at Alastor. "Visit me sometime?"

"How does next Saturday sound?" He suggested.

"Great!" Mimzy skipped away, waving bye wildly. "Bye, Al!" 

"See you Saturday." Alastor nodded. When the doors shut, Alastor stole a glance at Countess.

She shifted her stance before walking away furiously. She didn't speak a word to him, only grabbed her book and disappeared to the upper floors. 

Charlie watched this closely and pulled Vaggie aside into a corner.

"That doesn't look good." She whispered, glancing around, hoping no one was eavesdropping. 

"No... I wonder if we're too late." Vaggie grumbled. 

"There's no way they already--" Charlie paused in her sentence, looking over Vaggie's shoulder at Alastor. He was watching them, his ears twitching slightly. Could he hear them? And were those  _ real _ ears...? She always thought they were weird hair tufts. "We should probably go talk somewhere more private."

"Good idea." Vaggie agreed. They both disappeared to the upper floors, shutting and locking the door to Charlie's room.

"You don't think they actually started a fight?" Charlie questioned as Vaggie began to pace. "Do you?"

"I hope not. I mean, they're not on speaking terms right now. Or at least that's what it seems like. Alastor looks absolutely murderous. Countess looks bitter. I'd say things aren't looking in our favor." Vaggie stopped in her pacing. "I think we should separate them for a while. Didn't you say something about getting a pet for the hotel?"

"Yeah!" Charlie said happily, her usual cheerful attitude returning. "I mean, Angel's pig is cute and all, but I'd like to have a pet for the whole hotel to share! Besides, I think I read in an article once that pets are scientifically proven to ease depression and anxiety. That'll be great for some of our clients." 

"Who should we take pet shopping, though?" Vaggie asked. "Countess or Alastor?" 

"Well..." Charlie thought for a moment. "Alastor doesn't look like he's too fond of pets. He doesn't mind Fat Nuggets, I think, but he probably won't like going out of his way to look for a pet. Countess seems like the best option. I think she told me she had a pet when she was alive once." 

"Then she'll know best how to pick one." Vaggie nodded. "What pet were we going to pick again?"

***

"You want me to go with you to pick out a _dog_?" Countess blinked slowly. "For the _hotel_?"

"Yes?" Charlie suggested hopefully, rocking back and forth on her feet. 

"But-- A dog? Alastor--" Countess stopped herself, clamping her mouth shut. She remembered Alastor didn't like dogs, and it wasn't something he openly shared with anyone. Despite her burning hatred of Alastor, she still respected him. Sort of. It was a complicated relationship, this thing she had with Alastor. She loathed him but loved him. She wanted nothing to do with him but always became angry when he ignored her. So, even though they were fighting, and even though they weren't on the best of terms, she would never reveal something so private. 

Especially when he hated dogs so much. 

Countess remembered when she found a puppy on the street one day. She had forgotten about Alastor's problems with dogs and she had practically shoved it in his face. Oh, Countess had cried that night. The poor puppy never stood a chance.

Alastor  _ despised  _ dogs. He--

A lightbulb lit up inside her mind. Her thoughts stilled for a moment as a malicious grin split her face.

_ Alastor hated dogs. _

This was the perfect way to get back at him for sending his shadow after her. That bastard needed to be taught a lesson. And what better way than to bring the very thing detests the most into the hotel? The hotel he was at  _ constantly.  _

Oh, yes. 

This was  _ sweet _ revenge. 

"What about Alastor?" Charlie asked.

Countess broke away from her thoughts, briefly remembering that she wasn't alone. 

"Nothing, nothing. Alastor  _ loves _ dogs. He'll be absolutely thrilled!" Countess exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. 

"Really?" Charlie asked, her demeanor lightening. "Does this mean you and Alastor aren't fighting?"

"Charlie, Charlie, my good-charming-friend-Charlie! Don't worry about me and Alastor. Let's just find this dog, yes?" Countess ushered Charlie through the hotel halls and out into the lobby. "We're bringing Vaggie, right?"

"Oh, yeah." Charlie nodded, planting her feet to stop Countess from shoving her. "She's in my room getting stuff ready--"

Countess snapped her fingers. 

Vaggie appeared in a flourish of coats and gloves. She yelped in surprise when her environment suddenly shifted and warped. It was almost as bad as that mirror dimension. She nearly hurled on the floor. 

"The  _ hell-- _ " She gasped, bending over in distress. "That was  _ not cool _ ." 

Countess grimaced slightly, helping her pick up the articles of clothing she had dropped on the ground.

"My apologies, Vaggie. I forget that my teleporting is rather jarring." Countess sheepishly placed all of Vaggie's belongings back in her arms. "I'm sorry. I'm afraid I'm getting rather impatient. I just...need to get away for a while." 

"It's fine," Vaggie grumbled. "I know you didn't mean anything by it. Just  _ please  _ don't do it again. And warn me next time?" 

Countess nodded. "Understood."

"Vags, we didn't need  _ this  _ much!" Charlie said, helping Vaggie carry the coats and gloves. 

"It's  _ freezing  _ outside. You know how Hell gets in the winter. I don't want us getting frostbite and losing limbs." 

Charlie sighed happily. "You're right." She turned to Countess.

"Do you need anything?"

Countess once again snapped her fingers and Vaggie flinched. In a brilliant flash of yellow light, Countess was clad head to toe in winter gear. She wore a classy black trench coat that fanned out below her knees. Her neck was adorned with a fluffy white scarf that was neatly tucked into her coat. She wore black leather gloves and black boots. 

She was the definition of warmth and style. 

"Classy!" Charlie observed. "Very professional." 

Countess shrugged. "I only dress in the best."

Vaggie narrowed her eyes slightly at the comment. 

"Dress to impress," Countess clarified. "It's what my favorite college professor taught me. My, that was ages ago."

"How old  _ are  _ you?" Vaggie asked.

Countess placed a hand on her hip. "Never ask a lady her age."

"She's twenty-six! Well, she was when she died." 

Countess groaned, the ominous hum of static drowning in her ears. 

"Giving away my secrets, Alastor?" She growled, turning around to face him. He was just beginning his descent down the stairs, his eyes lidded and mischievous. 

"Oh, darling, it's no secret you're still young. I was just wondering what kind of party you three girls were having  _ without me _ ."

"Ooh, Alastor!" Charlie called out. "You'll be soooo excited! We're going to buy a do--"

"OKAY!" Countess interrupted, taking a step in front of Charlie. "We're leaving, bye!" 

Countess snapped her fingers, the hotel peeling away like paper. She took Vaggie's hand, steadying her as she teleported them out of the hotel and onto the frozen streets. 

"Hey, what was that for?" Charlie questioned, catching Vaggie's trembling form in her arms.

"Don't we want to  _ surprise  _ Alastor when we come back?" Countess offered, covering up her true motive. "He loves surprises."

"Oh, yeah! He does!" 

"I thought I said  _ WARN ME _ next time you teleport." Vaggie wheezed.

"Sorry, Vaggie, but Charlie was about to let the cat--or should I say dog--out of the bag early!" Countess looked around, giving Vaggie and Charlie time to get dressed in their winter clothing. "Now, where are we going? I'll teleport us--"

"NO!" Vaggie shouted loudly. "No, no, no,  _ no _ . We are using  _ THE LIMO. NO MORE TELEPORTING! _ "

Countess watched in silence as Vaggie stomped over to the limo, which had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Vaggie opened the door and slammed it shut abruptly.

Charlie and Countess exchanged a look before giggling slightly. 

"I could always teleport the _car_."

"NO."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm, a dog for the hotel?
> 
> Trust me.
> 
> This isn't going to go the way they think.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading!
> 
> Don't forget to leave a kudos and a comment! I love comments. I practically live and breathe off of them. If you have any questions, I'll be glad to answer them! Everyone have a wonderful day!
> 
> Au revoir! <3


	17. Enormous Difficulties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***
> 
> Countess was about to reply when the earth shook beneath her. It thumped violently, once, twice, thrice. Charlie looked up from Countess's shoulder, squinting into the distance. 
> 
> A silhouette darkened by the crimson light of the sun came scattering down the farthest hillside. With each great leap of its thick legs, the earth trembled. 
> 
> Countess politely shrugged Charlie off of her, tearing her gloves off and extending her black claws. She pushed Charlie behind her as the giant creature continued to run at them. Vaggie took a protective stance beside Countess, her spear pointed her eye narrowed. 
> 
> "Oh my god," Charlie breathed. "No way."
> 
> ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this is late! I feel like I say that a lot, I probably do. Anyway, here it is! I got a little experimental at the end. In all honesty, I haven't written a story in a long time so even after sixteen or so chapters, I'm still stretching my legs. I hope you all enjoy it!

Countess sat in her own silence as tall buildings and apartments passed by in a crimson blur. 

The limo was large, spacious enough that Countess could stretch out her giant wings and barely scrape the end. There were small compartments to her left. She didn't know what they were filled with, but she assumed they were necessities. Or candy, knowing Charlie as well as she did.

Countess couldn't remember the last time she'd had dinner with Charlie's family. 

Before she met Alastor, Lucifer consistently invited her to dinners and galas. That's how she got to know Charlie. Countess was there when Charlie was younger so, it was great to see how she'd grown in Countess's absence. Of course, it was also sad. To think about all of the things Countess missed out on while she was in her self-exile. All because she was hiding from  _ him _ .

Alastor had stolen many things from her.

Countess shook her head, scattering her nostalgic stupor. It was then that she realized they were driving to the border of Pentagram City. They weren't going to the pet district of the city.

Why were they driving to the outskirts?

"Charlie?" Countess asked, glancing across the limo at Charlie and Vaggie. "Where are we going? Why are we leaving town?"

"Oh! Well," Charlie began. "My dad always said that the best pets in Hell were found out in the wild."

"The  _ wild _ ?" 

"Yeah! I don't know why, though."

Countess snorted, her eyes drifting out the window again. "If 'the wild' at this end of the city is anything like the wilderness around my house, you're not going to find any pet-worthy animals." 

Charlie shrugged. "We'll find out, I guess. We can always go back to town later if we have to." 

Countess nodded, her lips tightening into a thin line. 

Gods, why did everything have to be red in Hell? It sometimes got so dull. Everything bled into a mesh of burgundy and scarlet. They reminded her of a certain someone who refused to remove himself from her thoughts. 

Alastor was red, was covered head to toe in it. She had no idea why he chose such a color. He blended in with the background around him...perhaps it was a tactic of sorts? A way to melt into the business and hide before he struck. Granted, he could turn into a literal shadow and sneak past anyone except her. 

She always knew when he was watching her. Countess could feel it. 

Like she felt back at her house. She knew the persistent bastard had sent his shadow after her the moment she left the hotel. It's the subtle, barely audible hum of static that pulses in the ozone. It's the chill that runs down her spine, the suspicion of being followed. Countess knows what Alastor's very aura feels like, he projects it aggressively on every soul he encounters. 

It was annoying.

_ He _ was  _ insufferable _ . 

He drove her insane, he  _ was insanity.  _

"Oh, oh! Stop the limo!" Charlie suddenly cried out, dispelling Countess from her thoughts. "We're here!" 

'Here' was the middle of nowhere, Countess observed. 

The landscape was rather bare, a few dead bushes scattered here or there. A wind blew across the lumpy hills, the long grass swaying with ghastly whistles. Spots of trees with barren branches dotted the hillsides, providing what little shade could be found. There was nothing special about this side of town, nothing at all. 

"Hey, Countess?" Vaggie asked.

Countess drew her attention to the moth-like demon. 

"We're going. We'll have to walk a little if that's okay." She informed, stepping out of the vehicle. 

"I don't mind stretching my legs." Countess agreed, emerging from the limo and grimacing when a powerful gust of icy wind nearly knocked her off her feet. Her wings unfolded sharply, and she had to dig her boots into the soggy muck to keep from flying away. "Dear heavens, the wind is atrocious today!" 

"Are you going to be alright?" Charlie asked, worried. She waved her arms in the air for emphasis. "You know, with the wind and stuff?" 

"I should be fine as long I keep my wings tucked away." She promptly pulled her wings into her side, stuffing them underneath her jacket before straightening her scarf. "Let's do this quickly, it's freezing." 

"Agreed," Vaggie nodded, turning to Charlie. "Lead the way, hun." 

"Okay!" Charlie cheered, facing North and pumping her fist in the air. "Adventure awaits!"

** Three Hours Later:  **

"Yayy...adventure." Charlie groaned, her breathing frantic. "I can't another step." 

Countess snorted, amused. "Darling, you're riding on my back, you're not even the one walking. You've been like this for the past hour."

"I'm  _ tired _ . I didn't think it would be this hard!" 

"Where did you say the dogs were?" Vaggie questioned, wiping a bit of sweat from her gray forehead. 

Charlie rested her head on Countess's shoulder, pointing with a shaky finger in front of Countess. 

"Over that hill." She gasped.

"You said that about the last hill, Charlie," Vaggie commented, huffing slightly. "We're never going to get there." 

Countess was about to reply when the earth shook beneath her. It thumped violently, once, twice, thrice. Charlie looked up from Countess's shoulder, squinting into the distance. 

A silhouette darkened by the crimson light of the sun came scattering down the farthest hillside. With each great leap of its thick legs, the earth trembled. 

Countess politely shrugged Charlie off of her, tearing her gloves off and extending her black claws. She pushed Charlie behind her as the giant creature continued to run at them. Vaggie took a protective stance beside Countess, her spear pointed her eye narrowed. 

"Oh my god," Charlie breathed. "No way."

"What?" Countess asked Charlie, her eyes never leaving the approaching assaulter. 

"My dad was joking when he said the dogs out here were  _ huge _ ."

"WHAT?!" Vaggie and Countess exclaimed at the same time, whipping around to glare daggers at the princess.

Charlie shrunk back sheepishly, her dark eyes widening slightly. 

"And you failed to mention this on the ride here?!" Vaggie exploded, pinching the bridge of her nose. 

"I didn't think he meant...that...big..." Charlie's voice quieted down, falling with each breath she took as she slowly looked up above her. 

A massive shadow covered the three girls, the sound of heavy panting ruffling the grass around them and disrupting clouds of dust. 

Countess's ears pinned against her head as she also glanced up warily. 

A large digit of slobber fell from the beast's gaping maw. It landed on the girls, soaking them through. 

Vaggie growled in disgust, flinging the spit from her arms. 

The dog was  _ absolutely ginormous.  _

Its teeth were longer than Countess was tall, sparkling white and sharpened to a point. Its eyes were like two glowing moons, the reflection of the three of them poised perfectly in its black pupils. The dog had long ram-like horns sprouting from the base of its skull, traveling down to its cheek. It had shaggy golden fur with brown undertones. Its big black nose was wet with snot as it sniffed them. 

Countess spit out a mouthful of giant dog slobber, shaking the rest from her clothes. 

"Wow...he's  _ really, really, really, REALLY  _ big," Charlie whispered.

"You think?!" Vaggie shouted.

The dog startled, a growl erupting from his closed jaw. 

The three girls held their breath as the dog towered over them, posing to strike...

*** 

The bottle combusted in mid-air. Glittering shards of glass exploded from the impact of a sharp, speeding bullet. 

"Pull!" 

Husk cursed under his breath, throwing his newly emptied alcohol bottle into the sky. 

Alastor held the rifle against his right shoulder, his fingers teasing over the trigger as he stalked the bottle. He pulled the trigger, his shoulder banking sharply as the bullet found its target. The bottle splintered, raining down barbed glass. The forest-green debris clattered above Husk's head. 

He was venting outside of the hotel, using his old rifle as a distraction. His mind kept drifting to Countess, and the thoughts weren't exactly pleasant. 

"Are you fuckin' done yet?" Husk growled, grabbing out a new bottle. "My good fellow," Alastor sang, his grin dangerously wide. "I'm not nearly close! Another bottle if you would?" 

"Listen, I can't do this all day. Angel wants me to go by more booze with him."

Alastor's eyes narrowed. "Spending an awful lot of time with the effeminate spider, are we?" 

Husk rolled his eyes dramatically. "If it involves alcohol and getting away from this fucking place, I don't care who it's with." 

"Fair enough." Alastor agreed. "Pull!" 

"Fine, but this is the last one and then I'm leaving." Husk tossed the bottle in the air, and Alastor shot it promptly.

"I suppose I'll have Niffty amuse me, then." Alastor decided, tucking his rifle underneath his shoulder. Most definitely not the safest way to hold a gun, but they were all dead anyway. 

"Niffty is out with Rudy." Husk said, standing up and brushing dirt from his fur. 

"With  _ Rudy _ ?" Alastor inquired, following Husk back into the hotel. 

"Yeah, the two really hit it off. You haven't noticed?" Husk replied, turning around with a skeptical look.

"Well, I suppose not! I've been rather..." Alastor mulled the word over in his head. "Distracted." 

Husk blinked slowly, his face impassive. "Yeah." 

"Ohhh, Husky!" Angel Dust called from down the hall. 

Husk grumbled a string of impressively colorful curse words and turned to Angel, clacking towards him wearing a new pair of heels. Fat Nuggets waddled beside him, clad in a bedazzled collar and leash. 

"Are ya ready for our date?" Angel asked, waggling his eyebrows. 

Husk scowled, his ears drooping. "This isn't a date."

"Whateva ya say. See ya, Smiles!" Angel called, taking Husk's arm and dragging him out the door. "Have fun being alone!" 

The door shut, the slam echoing against the walls. 

Alastor stood there for a moment, blinking and smiling. 

The silence was defeaning, his ears twitching uncomfortably at the lack of sound.

He took a long shaky breath, his eyes nervously darting around the hotel lobby. 

Where were the clients? 

He needed something to do, lest he fall into a pit of tormenting thoughts. 

Alastor did not have the patience for his thoughts, considering who they were about.

Alastor snapped his fingers, teleporting himself to one of the patient's room.

It was empty, just like the lobby. 

His eyes trailed across the room, landing on a single piece of paper on one of the drawers. 

He picked up and read its contents. 

_ Dear Charlie,  _

_ The rest of the guys and I will be going out since everyone will be gone today. I promise we'll be safe, and I'll make sure everyone stays true to the redemption program!  _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Cecilia  _

Alastor's hand began to quake, his well-composed emotions beginning to spill over. He wadded the note up, throwing it on the ground before stomping out.

There were no clients to torture, no people to talk with, nothing to do, and no Countess to--

Alastor paused in the hallway.

There was  _ no  _ Countess. 

There had been no Countess for nearly seventy years. 

He's been without her...for  _ seventy years _ . 

Something inside of Alastor twinged, a feeling foreign to him bubbling in his chest. 

It felt as if something very heavy had been placed on his shoulders, weighing down his spirit. Alastor shook his head, trying to displace the painful feeling that suddenly gripped his chest. It stayed, growing with more intensity until he felt like he could hardly feel.

What was this?

What was happening to him?

Was this what guilt felt like?

This was unlike him, he's never felt this before, he shouldn't be feeling this, he shouldn't--

Alastor snapped, his eyes morphing into radio dials. 

His antlers cracked and sputtered, climbing up to the ceiling. His claws twitched, the lust for murder blooming deep in his stomach. His smile stretched to impossible size, nearly splitting his face. 

This was Countess's fault. 

_ All. _ _ Her. _ _ Fault _ . 

Alastor didn't know when he'd walked out of the hotel and downtown. He didn't remember what brought him there or how many souls he slaughtered. He didn't remember the gore dripping from his fingers, and he didn't remember when he returned to the hotel.

He didn't remember climbing into bed for the first time in years, and he didn't remember his head hitting the pillow. 

The one thing Alastor did remember was her face.

Countess's face plastered on every demon he slew, her face on every billboard in the city, her face in the mirror, and her face on his ceiling. She was haunting his every step, his every thought. She had been since they'd met. 

He wished he never went to her house that day, wished he never knocked on that door and wished she never answered. 

Things had been simple before that.

He didn't have foreign feelings, he wasn't conflicted, and he most certainly wasn't as angry. 

But if he hadn't met her, then his sleepless nights would've been spent alone. If he hadn't met her, he'd have no one to dance ballet with. If he hadn't met her, he'd never have anyone eat with. If he hadn't met her, he'd never have anyone to tease. He'd never have  _ her  _ as a  _ friend _ . 

A real friend or, at least, she had been before he betrayed her foolishly. 

For the first time in either his life or afterlife, he suddenly felt very alone. 

And the loneliness seeped into his bones, his eyes examining the ceiling unblinking and focused. And his smile never faltered, even as the loneliness tore through his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmm...
> 
> The next chapter should be out soon.
> 
> I dunno.
> 
> With this whole coronavirus thing, I won't be doing much outside of home so more writing time for me, yay! 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. As always, leave a kudos(please, of course, I have to be polite) and shoot me a comment. I can not stress enough how much I love comments. I don't care if they're weird if you just wanna put in an emoji...I will see it, I will reply, and I will LOVE IT. I'm also always open to feedback! Feel free to tell me what you like and don't like about the story! I'm all ears. 
> 
> I love you all! 
> 
> Au revoir! <3


	18. The Dog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***  
> Countess tossed a rope to Vaggie. "Grab it! I'm going to try and wrangle it!" 
> 
> "LIKE A BULL?!" Vaggie replied, her face draining of color. "Have you ever done that before?"
> 
> "Of course not! I wasn't a rancher in my living days, I was a politician! But I watched lots of westerns. It can't be that hard."
> 
> ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy... 
> 
> I'm alive!
> 
> Where did the time go?! I disappeared for almost a month! 
> 
> I am so sorry, everyone! I just up and left the face of the earth. XD I hope you all are staying safe and enjoy this chapter! Don't ask me why it took so long to write because I have no good excuses other than I got busy. Which is true.

Countess relied on instinct. 

The instant giant dog rose its paw, Countess dug deep within herself. She found the fiery reservoirs in her mind. She tugged sharply at the power, bending and shaping it to her will. 

In a brilliant flash of light, flames sprang from her open palm and collided with the face of the massive dog. It yelped, staggering back in pain. Countess twisted her fingers deftly, sparkling ropes of golden energy materialized in the air. She held it firmly in her claws before throwing them, loops forming at the ends. Her makeshift lasso hooked on the dog's horns. 

Countess tossed a rope to Vaggie. "Grab it! I'm going to try and wrangle it!" 

"LIKE A BULL?!" Vaggie replied, her face draining of color. "Have you ever done that before?"

"Of course not! I wasn't a rancher in my living days, I was a politician! But I watched lots of westerns. It can't be _that_ hard." Countess shrugged, yanking another lasso out of thin air. 

Charlie took the rope from Countess, launching it over the dog's head and catching its other horn. Charlie pulled down with all her might, and the dog's snout tipped forward, momentarily losing balance. 

Countess took this as her opportunity, ignoring the harsh winds pulling at her wings, she unfurled them and leaped upon the dog's hulking form. She landing on its wet, quivering nose before flipping over to its back. The dog growled in frustration, tossing its head violently and beginning to buck like a horse. Countess grabbed fistfuls of fur, hanging on desperately. 

Charlie and Vaggie ground their heels into the dirt, pulling back with all their might. 

Countess gained her balance, running down the dog's back and to its thrashing tail. Countess found the tip of its furry tail, when it moved, she let gravity steal her with an extra push of her power. The sheer strength of Countess's descent flipped the dog over on it's back, yanking the ropes from Charlie and Vaggie's hands as it came crashing to the ground. Countess stepped aside as the canine collided in a plume of dust and grass. 

The dog scrambled on the hill, its body squirmed helplessly in defeat. Countess dusted off her jacket before walking calmly towards the dog. It snorted wildly, its eyes bulging and wide. 

"Countess, what are you doing?" Vaggie hissed through her clenched teeth, her spear still out and pointed dangerously. 

"Hush!" Countess seethed, whipping around to glare at Vaggie. "You must be quiet. I am attempting to tame it."

" _Tame it?_ That thing tried to squash us." 

"Vaggie...wait." Charlie comforted quietly, pointing over to Countess. "Watch." 

Countess crept forward, slowly extending a clawed hand to the giant dog. The dog paused in its angry tantrum, and it landed its large, dark eyes on her. It snorted loudly, sending a gust of snotty air at the trio. Countess fought the urge to gag before her hand settled on its nose.

The dog froze, and so did everyone else. 

"We're not here to hurt you. We're just here to give you a home. Would you like that?" Countess asked softly, rubbing the dog's nose gently. 

Charlie watched in amazement. She had never seen Countess so calm and loving. It was incredible. 

The dog began to wag its tail before licking Countess.

Its large pink tongue scraped against Countess, drenching her beautiful trenchcoat and scarf in slobber. 

"Ew," Vaggie grimaced. 

But soon, Countess was laughing and patted the dog in good spirit. 

Everyone exhaled in relief. The dog didn't seem to want to hurt them anymore, so that was good. Countess traveled around its skull to heartily scratch its ears. It gave a content whine, its tail thumping up and down dramatically. 

"You're such a good boy, yes you are!" Countess praised, using her claws to plunge into its thick fur.

"It's a boy?" Vaggie asked, approaching warily with her spear still at her side. 

"Yes," Countess tilted her head slightly so that her flame-like eyes settled on Vaggie's. "Would you like to see for yourself?"

"No, thanks," Vaggie replied curtly, looking away quickly. "It's way too big for me to be comfortable doing that." 

"Aw, what will we name him?!" Charlie exclaimed, rushing up to also pet the massive animal.

"How about we decide that when we get back to the hotel?" Countess suggested. 

Vaggie and Charlie nodded in unison.

The pentagram sun slowly sank beneath the grass-covered hills. Dusk was falling across Hell, and small stars began to twinkle in the distance. A sharp chill began to settle down upon the valley

"But...how are we going to do that?" Charlie asked. "It's already getting dark and we don't have much time before night falls. And trust me, you don't wanna be out here at night. You think the city is bad? Wait until you see the monsters that lurk out here."

Countess's ruby lips curled up into a small smirk. "Well, I have an idea..."

***

Alastor didn't sleep last night.

He doesn't sleep often anyway, but at least he's normally doing things he enjoys while stuck in a state of eternal insomnia. 

Last night was awful, though. In comparison to most nights in Hell, where all you dream of is nightmares, he could not find sleep no matter how hard he tried. 

Tossing and turning for hours, his eyes snapping open in the pale dark before trying to rest them again.

That was the whole night last night.

And his neck was paying the price.

Alastor rubbed the crook between his spine and his skull, wincing slightly as he found a knot of muscle painfully nestled beneath his skin. Normally, physical ailments did nothing to affect. It was more the manner in which he received this insufferable knot that made it all the more impairing. 

Throughout the day, he would constantly try and massage it out but to no avail. 

Husk returned late last night from his outing with Angel. He looked about as bad as Alastor did. But even the cat in his drunk stupor could notice that Alastor was in obvious distress. He didn't press it, though. He knew what happened when he stuck his nose into Al's business. 

Alastor trapped the ceramic between his claws, letting the strong scent of coffee melt away his headache. The steaming beverage quivered in his hands as if someone had dropped a single bead of water into it. Only he didn't. The black coffee was trembling, but so was the entire hotel. 

In one consecutive thud, one after the other. Each thud grew stronger and louder with each passing second. Alastor glanced over at Husk. The cat demon's ears flicking to the front door and his whiskers were twitching nervously. 

Alastor rose from the sofa, coffee still in hand. He made his way over to the door, blinky slowly to chase the sleep from his eyes before opening the door. 

Alastor tilted his head.

Well, he certainly didn't expect to see legs as thick as redwood trees covered in golden fur at the front door. A great shadow loomed over his head and he fearlessly looked up, that was until he noticed what was creating such a massive shade. 

His crimson eyes settled on the slobbering muzzle of a dog.

And not just _a dog_.

A gigantic, gargantuan sized dog. 

Alastor's mug slipped from his fingers, shattering on the pavement.

Why in the nice circles was there a revolting, flea-infested mutt doing at the hotel--? 

"Ohh, Alastor!" A voice sang from above the dog. 

Sitting atop the dog's burly head was Countess, waving her gloved hands triumphantly in the air. Charlie followed suit happily. 

Alastor clenched his fists at his sides and his smile twitched dangerously. 

Oh, he was going to kill Countess for this. Perhaps multiple times. Constantly. He would bring her back from whatever void demons disappeared to when they died a second time. He would repeat her death as many times as pleased. 

Payback was in store. 

"Look, Al! We got a dog!" Charlie said innocently. She looked genuinely excited to show him the abomination standing in front of him. But god, why was it so damn _big_? 

"I see that!" He ground out, trying his best to not sound irritated. It wasn't working. 

To make matters worse and far more complicated, a pink and orange blur suddenly barreled straight into him. Alastor staggered back a little bit, lifting an eyebrow in curiosity as Niffty tried to shove him over. He picked her up by the scarf and set her back down. She looked up at him with her big, sparkling eye before turning around.

"See! I told you he wouldn't fall over. Alastor's the strongest." Niffty trumpeted behind her. Niffty shook her head, clouds of dust dispelling from her neon locks. She was absolutely filthy and the dust was now clinging to his suit. How on earth did she get so dirty? 

Rudy followed behind her and was also covered head to toe in soot. The rodent demon rolled her eyes. 

"Oh please, Countess stopped a charging mutant with her bare hands and-- HOLY SHIT!" Rudy exclaimed as she looked up at the dog that towered above her. A smile crept onto her small lips. "And look at that. Countess can wrangle a _giant_ dog. I bet Alastor can't do _that_."

"Sure he can!" Niffty said. "You can, right?" 

Alastor grimaced. 

He wanted to tell Niffty he would touch that dog with a thousand-foot pole but the look on the smaller demon's face was so precious. And he fell soft to that face every time.

"Of course, darling!" He lied. 

Niffty crowed proudly. "Told ya he was the best." 

"Okay, yeah, whatever." Rudy shrugged, pushing Niffty inside the door. 

Niffty and Rudy looked at each other for a moment, before giggling about something funny. They both disappeared inside the hotel and left Alastor outside with the dog, Countess, Charlie, and Vaggie. 

"...what was that about?" Vaggie grumbled, trying to get down from the canine's back. 

"Who knows," Charlie whispered.

"I'm sure it's nothing good," Countess confessed, her eyes locking with Alastor's.

He knew that Charlie wanted a pet for the hotel. For the residents to play with, but some small part of him had hoped it would be a cat. And if it had to be a dog, it would be small and leave him alone. 

Of course, the mutt had to be about fifty feet tall and sixty feet in length. 

What a nightmare... 

And it was only just beginning. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a little lazy at the end...but I had to get this done! 
> 
> Anyway...as an 'I am sorry present', I give to you--
> 
> THE PINTEREST BOARD FOR SCARS DON'T HEAL! 
> 
> If you wanna see a bunch of art, references, character concepts, and just random fun stuff--go check out this like: https://www.pinterest.com/MoonNotMoonie21/hazbin-hotel-scars-dont-heal-fanfic-board/
> 
> Thank you all for being so patient! I love all of you. You, my readers, are a great blessing. I cannot believe this story has gotten this far. I am notorious for starting but never finishing stories so I hope we can see this one to the end! The next chapter is a look into what Rudy and Niffty were up to while Alastor was having a personal crisis and Countess was trying to be a cowgirl...a doggirl? Whatever, close enough. This chapter will be written by my friend, Animator2197, so make sure to give them lots of love! 
> 
> In conclusion, I love you all. Don't forget to leave a comment and a kudos! I love both and they both keep me motivated. Let's me know people still want more of the story!
> 
> Love you all! 
> 
> Au revoir! <3


	19. Rudy's Day Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, well, well. 
> 
> Late again... But I have no good excuse... 
> 
> That's because it was pre-written by my good friend Animator2197! Yes, you heard me right! This one is not written by me. Rudy's character belongs to Animator2197, so I thought it would be fitting if they had a chance to actually write a chapter for the story! Or maybe more, who knows. This chapter features what Rudy and Niffty were doing while Countess was out dog wrangling. 
> 
> We hope you guys enjoy!

Rudy watched Countess leave with her large ears perked. 

Countess was leaving? For how long?

A realization dawned on her. 

_ Aw, dung-biscuits! THE RACES!  _

Rudy dashed across the hotel lobby, yanking her jacket off of the coat rack and draping it over her shoulders. She dug into her pockets and produced the keys to her car. 

Niffty tugged on Rudy’s sleeve, her large eye looking up at her curiously. “Remember we have lunch together at 12:30?”

“Don’t worry, Niffts. I won’t forget. Just gotta sign up.” Rudy said, shrugging the small cyclops from her arm. 

“Sign up for what?”

Rudy’s eyes began to sparkle with fiery determination. “The races.” 

Pulling into the races, Rudy parked her car, and hopped to the sign in, cash in hand. The demon behind the glass glared at her from above before recognizing her small stature. 

“Well, if it isn’t the smallest racer in all of Hell. What can I do ya for this fire early morning, spitfire?” 

“I’m signing up for the races, mate - £20 for the fee.” She stamped the money on the wood counter. 

“£20? What’s that? I’m from the U.S, little lady, and we don’t pay in weights.”

“It’s approximately $25. That should cover my fee, more than plenty.” 

“And do ya mind my asking; where did a small tyke like you get that much money? Did ya rob yar Master?” Rudy gave him no time to sneer or even blink. The moment he growled ‘master’ the unsuspecting demon‘s nose was broken. 

“Next time, I recommend ya mind your words, because next time there will be no warning shot - I’ll just eat ya.” She grinned, showing all her sharp, rat-like teeth, then proceeded to snatch her assigned number from the counter. 

She pasted the magnetic numbers on her car that Countess had so kindly snapped together for her, then decided to take a stroll to the old Hazbin Hotel. She needed to pick up Niffty so they could catch a meal together.

+++

“Ooh! Thanks for inviting me. It’s been so long since I’ve had lunch with a friend.” Niffty squealed as they walked into the coffee shop. Rudy didn’t much care for coffees of teas, but it was a restaurant that was close to the hotel, and the cakes were good. 

The two hopped into a corner booth and began to look through the menu of sweets - how was there so much sugar in Hell? Probably the same reason there were drugs - pleasure. They picked their cakes, and sat and waited for only a moment as a thin spider demon delivered their food. 

“What did ya get?” Niffty grinned, her one eye bright and shining as the steamy cakes were put down. “I got the carrot cake.” 

“I just got the chocolate cake. I should swing by here after the race and get Glenda a cake - she likes cake, but she likes cider more…” Rudy replied. The spider rolled her eyes at Niffty’s excitement but scuffled away without saying anything. 

“Any horror stories?” Niffty said, swallowing a mouth of carrot. 

“Oh, lots, but she’s not that bad. She’s sweet when ya get to know her - she does have her moments, though.” 

“I bet Alastor is scarier - he’s always snapping his fingers and wiping out thousands of souls - remaking Hell. He got blood on the hotel carpet today.” 

“Oh? Well, Glen killed a whole clan of demons just because they wouldn’t let me drive to Hazbin the other day - seventeen demons, gone. Bloody carnage.” Rudy piped, looking Niffty in the eye. 

“Al set fire to a parking lot when Sir Pentious sent the Egg Bois to steal Charlie’s car.” Niffy grinned. 

“That’s nothing. Glenda transported the house three times the other day, with a snap of her fingers - everything was moved, even the land around us. Scared me - I almost dropped the dishes.” What a competition they had made - first to admit the others’ employer was scarier bought the ticket. They had done it more than once - every meal they went out to ended with someone admitting the other had a tougher job. 

Niffty shrugged. “Teleporting is quite a thing, but it’s not scary.” 

“Ever done it while driving?” Rudy grinned. 

“No.” 

“Then how can you say it’s not scary? You’ve never done it.” 

“I’m sure shadow traveling is worse - It’s much scarier.” 

“Yeah, for someone watching you come out of it - shadow traveling is barely a trick.” Rudy smirked. Nifft’s shoulders drooped. 

“What about when Alastor snaps his fingers and his enemies get dragged into the furthest depths of Hell? That always gets a good scream.” Niffty’s eye lit up. 

“Countess slaying thousands with her bare hands is more entertaining, and is much bloodier.” Rudy grinned. 

“We’re going to be here forever, aren’t we?” Niffty frowned. 

“Nah, I race at three. We only have two hours.” 

+++

The engines roared in Rudy’s sensitive ears, trembling the asphalt beneath her. The air smelled of burning gasoline and smoke puffed out of exhaust pipes. 

Rudy’s sweaty paws gripped the steering wheel, her breath coming out raggedly as the adrenaline spiked in her veins. She licked her lips, settling down in her car seat further, eyeing the flagbearer expectantly. 

The vehicle beside her crescendoed in harmony with her, the driver glancing over with malice in his eyes. She replied with only a sneer, not giving the other racer the satisfaction of riling her up. Instead, she hid her annoyance by glancing into the crowd - hundreds of demons were there, watching, wanting not just to see who would win but who survived - this was a sudden death race, as in people could randomly fly off the road and die at any time - the racers only had two jobs; survive, and win - there were no rules. This was Hell - they didn’t need rules. 

One demon caught her eye in particular - a dapper cat in a suit with one blue eye and one yellow eye. He had fluffy grey fur, and two short black horns - his familiarity was killing her...again. Did she know him? And if she did, where from?

The flag dropped, and Rudy snapped back into reality. Slamming the gas, she shifted gears, taking off with a jolt. The other racers followed, each trying to get up ahead of the others. 

Races were more violent here than in the living world, as was expected. Racers could shoot at each other, ram each other, even just sabotage others’ vehicles before the race even started - smart drivers never left their cars unsupervised. 

Immediately as the race started, the bloodbath began - one racer after another was picked off like fleas, each having a horrible accident that shot them off the race track or got them trampled - this was the second hardest part of the race - getting off the starting line alive, with your car intact (the car being the more important of the two). In a blink, only twenty racers remained of the original one-hundred - Rudy leading them. 

Whipping around the corners and drifting around banks, she found her lead in the curves of the road and gained more space between herself and the other racers as the straightaways came into view. But being ahead now did not mean you’d win - it made you a target. 

Suddenly, from the sky, a demon with a large chainsaw landed down on Rudy’s hearse, denting the hood. 

“Oi! You better pay for that, ya mongrel!!” She shouted swerving in an attempt to throw the demon off. The demon dropped a little, chainsaw still in hand.

“Seriously? You’re not even worried about yourself?!” He growled through the window. 

“Nope.” Rudy slammed the break, tossing the demon, only to find herself off of the track. “Dunny rat.” She groaned, pulling to reverse and speeding back to the course. Entering the road again she took out two other cars, slamming them both into a building. 

She popped the clutch and sped off, catching the others, and passing most. Ahead of her laid many traps that the curator of the race had planted - her chance to regain the top, but she had to live first. 

Staving behind the pack, she watched with almost glee as the first trap snapped up several racers in one giant mouse-trap. The second took out three more, swiping the off a cliff with one giant axe. Now only twelve remained. Rudy sped up a bit, but she did not get too close to the pack - being close meant getting caught in traps or getting thrown off the road by another driver. 

Another trap took out seven more demons and left only two traps until the straightaway to the finish line. She sped up more, this time catching the pack. She knew the other traps - first was the slingshot, which only a few drivers could get past safely, but she had to get across before a giant rubber band shot the other competitors off the track or else she’d be a lost cause at the bottom of the literal River Stix. She passed this last, but at least she was safe. The next trap was a guessing game - a three-way ramp. Only one lane on the ramp could lead to safety; The other two would shoot you off the race track and away from the race, with a low chance of your car surviving whatever it wrecked into. 

She watched as others took left and center ramps, but her gut told her to follow the group that took the right. She flew off the ramp, slamming the wing button on her hearse and praying it actually would fly. It took off, shooting above the other racers and flying her in front of them. She hit the track first and took the finish line, beating her old record and slaying the competition. 

+++

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite Aussie.” Rudy froze at the words - only two people would be brave enough to even utter that phrase, and the stranger's voice was too deep to be Countess’s. 

_ Please don’t be the cat _ . Rudy grimaced as she turned from her car to face the demon behind her. He was indeed the cat, but he was taller than Rudy had first thought, or at least he seemed that way when he stood hunched over her. 

“Can I help ya, mate?” Rudy raised a brow, locking eyes with his two different eyes. A moment of realization rolled over her as his familiar features were now observable from a closer distance. “Rory?”

“Hey, look! Ya do recognize me. I was almost worried ya had forgotten me.” The cat grinned, tapping Rudy’s nose. She snatched his hand and crushed it in her palm. 

“How can I forget--Ya hit me with a car! Twice!!” She released his hand, which recoiled into the safety of the persian’s chest. 

“Well, I see bygones are not bygones--what happened to that forgiving nature of yours?” He grumbled, petting his injured hand. “Did it die with your free spirit?” 

“No, it died when  _ I _ died--not a lot of forgiveness needed here in Hell.” Rudy growled, shoving past him to grab her jacket from the stool. She pulled the purple jacket on and snatched her keys from the counter. 

Rory watched with an unreadable expression on his face, his different colored irises watching analytically. A grin spread across his twisted face; 

“You have a master, don’t ya?” He purred with a snide grin. 

Rudy twitched. “What?” 

“Look at you--still playing pet, even when dead.”

“I am no one’s pet, mate.” She bit through her teeth. “Why don’t ya just get stuffed. Don’t ya have someone else to con into your bidding?” She jumped into her car and slammed the door shut, but before she could even start it, Rory had stepped in front of the vehicle. She shot him a glare that told him she wasn’t afraid to run him over - it wouldn’t make things even, but it would make her feel better. 

“Ya know where to find me?” He smiled a pompous grin before stepping aside. 

“I won’t be looking.” She drove out of the garage at a high speed, squealing her tires and making sure to run over Rory’s feet. She reveled in his pain as she watched him hop between sore feet in the rearview mirror. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tadah~ 
> 
> Don't forget to leave a comment and a kudos! <3
> 
> Love you all! Stay safe and away from the evil corona virus. 
> 
> Au revoir!


	20. Q&A Answers!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to APermanentResidentOfTheFriendzone for your questions!

**1\. ‘Ya like jazz?**

I actually love jazz! I've been a fan of it for a while, but after seeing Hazbin Hotel and Alastor, I remembered how much I like it! 

**2\. Does Glenda have family or close friends in Hell we haven’t seen yet?**

Glenda doesn't really have any friends from her living days in Hell. Her only friend, aside from acquaintances at work, was Jody. And she's not there. Considering she was an orphan, she doesn't have any family down there either. Well, at least, none that she would recognize. Who knows? Maybe her birth parents are down there, too. 

**3\. Has Glenda ever encountered Stolas, and if so, what does she think of him? Same goes for any other known overlords.**

Glenda has, indeed, encountered Stolas. It was brief and at that overlord gathering she threw at her house a while back. Let's just say, from that short meeting, she hopes to not see him in a very, very long time. Glenda has already interacted with most of the overlords we've heard of, but I'll write down her opinions of them anyway. 

Vox: He's alright. She doesn't want to spend anymore than three minutes around the guy.

Valentino: She can't stand him. He reminds her of someone she met when she was alive. She didn't like that guy either.

Rosie: She likes Rosie. Since Alastor is friends with Rosie, she knows her pretty well. They would have some get-togethers on occasion.

Lucifer and Lillith: They kinda count as overlords, but they're like the OVER overlords. Lucifer seems to enjoy her a lot. Glenda doesn't know why, but she doesn't complain either. She gets to join a lot of yummy dinners with Magne family. 

Velvet: Velvet seems pretty new. I'm sure Countess would've heard of Velvet but probably hasn't met her. Considering she hangs out around Vox and Valentino a lot, Glenda probably wouldn't like her too much. 

Those are all the overlords I know of off the top of my head. I'm sure there's more that haven't been revealed yet. 

**4\. Whose side would she be on if the Doom Marine should ever appear in this Hell?**

Okay, so I actually didn't know who this 'Doom Marine' person was, so I did a little research. If Doom Marine ever appeared in Hell, I feel like Countess would probably leave him alone until he tried to either bother her or her friends. She's a bit protective... So if he ever attacked the hotel, she'd most likely attempt to violently murder him. 

**5\. Does Glenda consider herself a chaotic neutral?**

Oh, she would definitely consider herself a chaotic neutral. As a politician, she's learned how to please other people. But that doesn't mean she never follows her own agenda from time to time. She'll help others as long as it means it helps her too. 

**6\. What does Glenda think of the British monarchy, both past, and present?**

She's skeptical of it, but she's skeptical of most things. While she didn't agree with the overall concept of it, she did enjoy it in some ways. The royal family loved her and treated her like their own daughter. She absolutely adored Parliament. she got a good kick out of watching grown men squabble like children over certain issues. It was seldom rare that she ever got to witness a Parliament hearing and even rarer that she officially attended. But when you're friends with the royal family, it comes with its perks. Wait a second...Countess is friends with Hell's royal family too. Hmmm... 

As for the present, she most likely hasn't heard much of it considering she's in Hell instead of on Earth. Although, I'm sure she hears a few things she's not a fan of. But it doesn't matter much to her now, she's not a politician anymore. Well, at least, not on Earth. 

**7\. Do penguins have knees?**

Since they waddle around I would say...no? This gave me a good laugh, by the way. 

**8\. Is Rudy friends with Crash Bandicoot or Ty the Tasmanian Tiger?**

Again, had to research these guys because I am an _uncultured_ _swine_. XD Rudy isn't very good at making friends, but I feel like she'd like them both. She'd probably relate to them in some ways.

**9\. Since she has reality-bending powers, does this mean that Glenda can legit turn herself into a fucking pickle?**

Yes, actually! She could definitely turn herself into a pickle. Will she? Now, that's an entirely different question. But the answer to that one would be:

**10\. What qualifies as a sandwich?**

For me, it's anything that's SANDWICHED between bread. It doesn't matter if you put peanut butter, turkey meat, or Cheetos on it. If there's Cheetos on it, it's just a Cheetos sandwich. 

**11\. What kind of dog is it?**

I went with the most generic dog possible. I chose a Golden Retriever, but here's the thing...that 'dog' is actually still a puppy. So he'd look like this sucker:

Look at him! Ain't he terrifyingly cute? Just imagine him much, much, much, much, much, much, much, MUCH bigger. 

**12\. Did you find this entertaining?**

Oh, absolutely! Also, thank you so much for asking questions! I was literally about to give up when I saw your comment. I had a lot of fun answering these so maybe I'll do it again sometime! If I do, hopefully, I'll get even more! 

Bonus:

Have a pickle Countess just because. XD 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I forgot to ask what you guys think we should name the dog! It'll be sticking around for a while so I think he needs a proper name! Leave name suggestions in the comments below and maybe I'll choose yours!
> 
> Everyone have a wonderful day! I'll see you all Friday for the next chapter! That one is one of my personal favorites.


	21. You're Driving Me Insane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Late AGAIN.
> 
> But this time, I have an actual excuse. 
> 
> My internet's been shoddy for two days straight. It's driving me insane. HA! Just like the chapter title! 
> 
> Anyway, again, I apologize for my lateness. I'm not running on the best track record at the moment. But I hope you enjoy the chapter anyway!

Angel Dust never took Alastor for the flustered type...or the angsty type either. 

But lately, Smiles has been anything but smiles. Well, he was always smiling, of course, but his eyes weren't. Inside his crimson pupils held a dark cloud of gloom. It blanketed his entire persona, draping the Radio Demon in a less chipper mood than usual. 

The tension in the air was palpable. 

Every time Countess would come within inches of Alastor, he'd freeze, a strange look covering his face before he shook it away. After that, he'd get as far away from Countess as possible, as if her presence was revolting. 

Angel was pretty damn sure he knew what was going on.

Oh, it was obvious. 

The poor chap had a  _ huge  _ crush on Countess and had no clue how to express his feelings. 

Sure, Alastor had come to him before about Countess, but that wasn't really anything Angel counted as 'love'. Alastor was fucking possessive, that was for sure. He clearly had claimed Countess as his own, so the mere thought of her not being able to tolerate him anymore was...well, intolerable. 

Angel could see it now.

He saw it in Val.

The glint of malicious daggers in Al's eyes told him all he needed to know. 

But Angel couldn't let this become like Val... He couldn't afford Countess to end up just like himself. Could Countess take care of herself? Hell yeah. But had Countess been defeated by Alastor before? Yep. 

That's what scared Angel the most.

Not that he  _ cared  _ for Countess or anything. She was just one of the few people out there who actually showed him respect, despite his preference of occupation. It was the first time someone didn't look at him like his sins were all he was...and maybe they weren't. 

Angel shook the thought from his head. Of course, his sins were all he was. It's why he's in Hell, and not singin' it up with the angels.

Angel stood up from the bar, shoving his bottle booze down the counter and into Husk's outstretched claws.

Angel had found his target stretched out on a lounge sofa. 

Alastor was quietly reading a book. Angel never understood why Alastor read so many books. There were other things Al could be doin'. Other  _ far _ more exciting things. 

Angel slowly inched his way over to the Radio Demon, an innocent look on his face as got closer, and closer, and closer, and closer...

"Do you need something, Angel?" Alastor quipped, his eyes flickering up to meet Angel's.

Angel froze immediately, tensing up like a wooden board. A chill traveled down his spine as Alastor's gaze locked onto him. The guy was unnerving, that was for sure. A force to be reckoned with. Of course, he was scared.

"Uhh, nope!" Angel stumbled over his words. "Just wonderin' what book you're reading." 

" _ The Great Gatsby _ ," Alastor nearly grumbled, turning a page. 

" _ The Great Gassy _ ?" Angel repeated, the title sounded wrong on his tongue. 

Alastor's smile twitched into a sinister snarl. "No,  _ The Great Gatsby _ ." 

"Oh, ah, never head of it." He confessed, folding a set of arms behind his back.

"I wouldn't expect you to." 

"What's it about?" 

Alastor slammed the book shut, glaring daggers up at the effeminate spider. "Are you sure you don't  _ need anything _ ?" 

Alastor's voice faded into the hum of static always in the background, his eyes turning dark. 

"...No?" 

"Then I'll politely ask you to leave me be." Alastor returned to his book, tapping his thumb impatiently on a page's thin edge. 

"I mean it's not like you're doing anything important anywa--"

With a snap of his fingers, Alastor disappeared in a flash of scarlet smoke. Angel blinked, waving the vapor from his eyes. 

Angel huffed indignantly, crossing his four arms in front of him angrily. 

How was he gonna find that strawberry pimp now?

Alastor let out a relieved breath, clutching that cursed book to his chest. 

Alastor took one look at the classic novel before tossing it on his bed. 

_ The Great Gatsby  _ was just as boring as the last time he read it. But something about what Countess had said about it had spurred him to pick it up again. Alastor regretted the decision not two pages into the book, remembering why he despised it so. 

What a useless waste of paper and money. 

Nothing entertaining about the book at all. 

Alastor's eye twitched in irritation when he saw deep chocolate eyes gazing at him from outside his window. 

The insufferable mutt, as Alastor resigned to call it, constantly found that its main purpose in life was to always bother him. No matter than occasion, the dog would be there. 

Down in the lobby doing work? He'd look over and see the dog peering at him from outside a window. Trying to regulate airflow in his dingy hotel room? The dog would stick his nose through the window and try to suck up all of his belongings. Oh, and then he'd sneeze. The dog snot would cover his  _ entire  _ room in  _ nasty  _ muck. 

The dog was disgusting and it always ruined whatever peace he found in this hellish landscape. Alastor knew Countess was behind it. He knew it the moment she waved from atop the beast's head. Plus, she was one of the select few who knew of his distaste for canines. And she had used it to her advantage. That was unlike her. Countess was never one to take precedence of someone else's shortcomings, she had other ways for bending people to her will. This was low for her, which meant she was getting desperate. 

Someone else who seemed equally desperate was Angel Dust.

Not only was the dog bothering him, but Angel had taken it upon himself to be a nuisance, as well. 

The spider had been plaguing him for  _ days _ . Finding every avenue to make himself known and extremely annoying. 

Alastor wasn't a fan of Angel Dust before, but now he was certain he despised the spider. 

A knock on the door caught his attention.

He narrowed his ruby eyes, glaring right through the door. 

Alastor knew who was beyond that door before the ignorant shouting started.

"Hey, Al! Lemme in ya asshole! I got to talk to ya." Angel rasped through the door. 

Alastor took it upon himself to not answer, instead, he pulled a mug of coffee from the air and sipped from it. 

"DAMMIT AL! I know yer in there! Open the fuckin' door!" 

Just keep quiet.

"I'm gonna bust it down!"

He wouldn't  _ dare _ . 

"Ready?! I'm gonna do it." 

_ He won't. _

_ "THREE!"  _ Angel shouted. 

There's no possible way--

" _ TWO! _ " 

He's not serious--

"O--"

Alastor wasted no time in flicking his hand, the lock clicked open and the door swung wide. Angel's lanky form came barreling into his room. He tripped over his thigh-high boots and landed on the floor with a large bang. 

Alastor's smile widened, amused by recent events. 

"Having fun?" Alastor asked, his eyes lidding over as he took another drink of his coffee. 

"You fucking  _ asshole _ . Why did you do that?" Angel Dust mumbled from the floor, his words muffled by the dark, wooden floors. 

"I couldn't have you breaking my door," Alastor confirmed. 

"Well, you could've opened it before I tried knockin' it over," Angel grumbled, peeling himself off the floor. "Besides, I've been trying to talk to you  _ all week _ ."

"I recall!" Alastor cheered, counting the days on his hand. "And I also recall trying to avoid for that entire week." 

"Yeah!" Angel snorted, shaking the dust from his clothing. "I've got something to tell ya--"

"Yes! You've already said! Now, please," Alastor said, grinding his teeth in irritation. " _ Spit it out  _ before I lose my patience."

"Ya sure you don't want me to build up to it? I mean it's kinda--"

"Out with it." Alastor hissed, his mug trembling in his hands as he fought to keep them from ripping out the other demon's throat. He took another drink, forcing the bitter liquid past his tongue. 

"Fucking fine then," Angel replied, throwing his arms in the air. "How long have you loved Countess?"

Alastor choked on his drink.

He coughed suddenly, clutching his throat as his pipes burned from the scalding hot joe. 

"Told ya."

"Why in the  _ nine circles would you--? ME?  _ In lo--" Alastor couldn't even bring himself to say the word. 

"Oh come on, Al. The sexual tension is  _ killing  _ me. And I'm already dead." 

"Se--" He couldn't bring himself to say that word either. "No." 

"No, what?"

"I have no clue what has made you made you think that Countess and I-- But we're not, and we haven't ever." Alastor cringed slightly as he recalled something Countess had once told him. Something that chilled him to the bone and made his stomach swim in bile. 

_ I loved you. _

Her voice in his head sounded like honey sickness. Alastor suddenly felt ill.

"You okay, Al? You're lookin' a little pale..." Angel blinked twice before his eyes lit in realization. "Oh my god, you're that dense?"

Al shoved aside his early quarrel to look Angel directly in the eye. 

"Call me that again, and I'll  _ rip _ your throat out and feast on your esophagus." 

"What's an-- Whatever the hell you just said." 

Alastor rolled his eyes, his smile twitching into a grimace. "Never mind."

"Look, all I was sayin', Al was that you don't even realize that you love Countess."

"I do not."

"Yeah, ya do."

"No, I assure you, I don't."

"And why's that?"

"I am not a creature capable of love." Alastor sighed matter of factly.

Angel Dust's brows furrowed in slight pity. "Look, Al, we've all done bad things. But I don't think that excludes you from being capable of love."

"No, no," Alastor waved his hand dismissively. "You misunderstand me. I have never been capable of love...it is something that has befuddled those around me for years."

"...Al, I'm drawin' a blank here. Ya gotta help me out."

"I have never loved anyone, at least, not in the way you imply." Alastor flinched at his own words. This was something he had never told anyone, not Rosie, not Husker, and not even Countess. This part of himself he never showed anyone, but in late of recent events, Alastor found himself more vulnerable then he would like. He could always threaten Angel Dust to never speak of it again. Ah, yes. That would work. 

"So, you've never wanted to fuck anyone?" 

Alastor's radio ambiance let out a shocking screech. 

"Must you say everything so  _ crudely _ ?" Alastor hissed. "And the answer to that question would be  _ no _ . I have not."

"Huh," Angel huffed, bewildered. The spider demon took a seat on the bed beside Alastor. "So, like, you've never ever loved anyone before?"

"I can feel affection and compassion towards a person, love comes in many different forms other than romanticism. The only person I have ever loved was my mother." Alastor replied, suddenly extremely uncomfortable with Angel's close proximity. 

"But...I still don't understand the deal with Countess, then. If ya don't have 'romantic' feelings for her, then what do ya have? Because you've been clinging to her like a tongue stuck on an icicle."

"I would hardly say  _ that  _ is an accurate description." Alastor scoffed, taking another sip of his coffee. It was cold now. 

"Well, it kinda is. Ya won't leave the poor dame alone. You've been naggin' her for months and she clearly doesn't want to be around you. But ya keep bothering her anyway. I just wanna know why. I thought if it was because ya wanted to get her in bed quickly, I would be able to help. It's been annoyin' watching ya flit around her." 

Alastor rolled his eyes. "Well, seeing as I don't want to...get her in  _ bed,  _ I will kindly ask you to leave me be and promise not to speak to anyone about what we have said in here." 

"Don't worry, Al. You're a weird shit is safe with me. But are you sure you don't want any advice? What exactly do you hope to gain from pestering Countess this whole time?" 

"I just..." Al stumbled over his thoughts, unable to find the words he needed to explain his emotions. "I suppose-- I guess I just want us to be friends again." Alastor began to fiddle with his claws, nervous about exposing even more personal information about himself. He was normally never so revealing to someone he didn't know very well. And Angel Dust was the  _ last  _ demon he  _ ever  _ wanted to console in. "It's been so long since I've seen her. I cared a great deal about her, perhaps more than anyone else I've met in Hell. And now, she won't talk to me. I miss her company."

Silence blanketed the room, Alastor watched Angel cautiously. 

The spider demon blinked once. Twice.

"Well,  _ shit _ , Smiles! Why the fuck didn't you say that from the start?!" Angel exclaimed, slapping his knee in realization. "If that was all ya wanted, I still could've helped ya!"

Alastor looked at Angel skeptically. "I don't think you know a single thing about friendship considering your track record."

"Hey!" Angel shouted, crossing his top arms. "Just because I make a livin' being hot, doesn't mean I'm hot around  _ everyone _ . I've got a few close friends that have ditched me in the past. I am  _ the best  _ at mending broken relationships."

Alastor wrinkled his nose.

Alastor knew Angel Dust was hardly an expert in anything, especially friendship. But perhaps...

It was a good start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bwoof, I got it done! 
> 
> Some revelations in here...and hopefully I didn't get TOO out of character in this one. It's sometimes hard when you've got to go off of is a single pilot and some hints dropped here and there on various streams. 
> 
> Don't forget to leave a kudos and MOST IMPORTANTLY...A COMMENT! 
> 
> I love those...PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSEEEEEEEEE??????!!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> As always, thank you for reading and I love you all. 
> 
> Au revoir! <3


	22. An Unexpected Client

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***
> 
> "Alastor." Countess seethed, trying to pull away from his vice-like grip. 
> 
> "Now, now--"
> 
> "Alastor. Unhand me."
> 
> "Gl--"
> 
> "LET GO!" Countess screamed, jerking away from him. In a powerful blast of concussed air, Alastor was knocked back. He felt himself flying through the air before his back hit the wall. 
> 
> ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S. ON. TIME.
> 
> WHAA--

Countess was busy in her newest book when it happened. 

The creaky sounds of the double doors opening up, guided by timid claws. The silent buzz that filled the hotel lobby as the atmosphere was covered in the thick layer of shock. Her ears flicked in the direction of the door, her attention torn from the climax of the story. 

At the entrance of the door, a demon stood astute with eagle-like fingers fiddling with his puff tie laced delicately around his neck. He wore a black tuxedo with cuffed sleeves. He wore slacks to match. 

He had a fluffy mane of silver fur, and the same silver covered his entire body. White markings splashed underneath his lion-like nose and spread down his narrow chin. Chilling yet calm golden eyes blinked at Countess and three dark freckles dotted the underneath of them. The lion-like demon had large ears, which wasn't a common feature Countess would associate with a lion. Nor were the ivory antlers that sat atop his brow. And especially not the large feathery wings that flapped behind him in a slightly defensive stance. He had a whip-thin tail resting on the ground behind him, a tuft of dark silver fur adorned at the tip. 

"Hello. This is the Hazbin Hotel, yes? I was curious if you still had rooms left?" His voice was cultured and smooth, a charming gentleman for sure. 

After a few moments of silent shock, Charlie sprang into action. She was upon the stranger in seconds and bouncing on the balls of her feet. 

"Welcome to the hotel! We have  _ plenty  _ of rooms left, don't worry. Are you interested in our redemption program?" Charlie said, grabbing his hand and dragging him over to the front counter. 

"Of course, I heard about your little experiment, Princess. I was curious to see if it was true." The demon said, bowing and kissing Charlie's hand.

Countess felt a small smile creeping onto her lips.

He was a gentleman, indeed. 

"Oh, please. Just call me Charlie. You don't have to be so formal here, I'm just around to help you out and be your friend." Charlie said, removing her hand before a crimson blush spread across her already rosy cheeks. 

"Either way, it is a pleasure to meet you and reside in this beautiful hotel of yours." 

_ A sweet talker _ . Countess observed.  _ I hope he's not a trouble maker. Besides, I don't remember ever going out recently to look for new clients. Perhaps word has gotten out about the hotel. Maybe my plan is actually working.  _

"Thank you," Charlie said, brushing off his charm for only a moment. "You know my name, but I never caught yours."

"My name is Theron, Ms. Charolette."

"Charlie is just fine." Charlie smiled genuinely, reaching behind the counter to grab keys that Vaggie was holding out. Vaggie's expression was dangerous, skeptical of the newcomer. "Alastor will show you to you--"

Charlie paused, looking around the lobby.

"Huh, looks like Alastor isn't here... I wonder where he is." 

"I'll take him to his room," Countess spoke up, rising from her seat on the sofa. "Since Alastor isn't here to perform his duties, I'll be more than happy to show this fine gentleman around." 

"You must be Countess," Theron said, turning around and locking those liquid golden eyes with hers. 

"Yes, sir," Countess replied, walking over to Charlie and the newcomer. "You've heard of me?"

"Of course, you're a legend here in Hell. Everyone knows about you and your power, and how you disappeared for seventy years. The news exploded when people got the word you were back around." Theron said, dipping his low, whiskers twitching anxiously. 

"Hmm," She hummed, without saying another word, she started walking to the stairs. Theron blinked once in surprise before jogging to catch up with her. 

"I've done my research," He blurted, fighting to keep up with Countess's breakneck pace up the stairs. "You're possibly the most powerful demon in Hell."

"You can only be the most powerful if you can effectively use those powers. In most of my fights, I happen to get lucky that my powers decide to cooperate. I am not the most powerful demon in Hell." Countess remarked, twirling the keys in her fingers. 

"But you  _ could  _ be," Theron suggested, a thick and heavy weight to his words. 

Countess glanced behind her, a sliver of a smile dancing on her lips. "Maybe." 

Countess stepped to the left about halfway down the first floor. His room number was 22, even though he was not the twenty-second patient. Charlie and Alastor suggested that the patients be a few doors down from the staff quarters. Countess agreed with this decision even though she did not reside in the hotel with the others. It was best that the clients didn't bother the staff, but they were still close enough if any trouble did arise. 

Countess unlocked the door and pushed it open. It wasn't one of the bigger rooms, average size with a queen-size bed, a closet, and a lampstand. There was a small vanity bathroom to the left of the bed with a mirror and a tub. 

She looked over at Theron and noticed he carried no belongings. 

"Do you have anything you'd like to take over?" Countess asked, tilting her head to his empty hands.

"Oh, right. I left them in the car--"

"No worries, Niffty will get them for you." Countess snapped her fingers and the cyclops appeared in a brilliant flash of golden sparks. 

"WHOA!" Niffty gasped, dropping a feather duster that she had held moments before. "Rudy was right! Your teleporting is  _ weird _ ." 

Countess smiled and shook her head gently. "Niffty, would you mind grabbing this fine sir's luggage from his vehicle?"

"Of course, Miss Countess!" Niffty picked up her feather duster and dashed out the door. 

"My god, she's an energetic little one, isn't she?" Theron commented, mirth dancing on his tongue.

"Niffty is a sweet darling, but don't make her angry. You'll most definitely regret it." She advised, her tail slowly shifting behind her. 

"...Well, seeing as I just arrived, do you mind showing me around the hotel?" Theron asked politely. 

"I would be delighted," Countess said, linking her arm with his and leading him down the hallway. 

Alastor did not like the new client. 

No, he did not like him one bit. 

Alastor was busy with Angel before, and when he wasn't listening to the spider drone on and on about 'buddies' and 'pals', he was doing paperwork for Charlie. It wasn't that Charlie was too lazy to do the paperwork or not adept to perform the task, it was more just that Alastor wanted any excuse he could get to limit his interaction with Angel. As...interesting as their conversations were, Alastor could only stand the porn star for a few spare moments. 

So when Alastor had finished another uncomfortable and jarring moment with Angel Dust, he hadn't expected to see a tall, dapper, and extremely handsome demon clinging to Countess's arm. 

He was  _ touching  _ her and  _ looking  _ at her in the most  _ infuriating  _ way. 

Countess was not some kind of...item or toy to hang upon. No one should be allowed to touch her except for him. Those hands were reserved for himself, not this...stranger. How in the nine circles had the gotten so close so quickly? He arrived only an hour or two ago! And here this demon was, lounging around with Countess like a lap dog. 

Speaking of dogs... 

Charlie had recently named the beast Cody, so now it responded to names. Charlie and Vaggie were at least training it to behave, but the dog seemed to have grown an attachment to Alastor. A very  _ cumbersome  _ attachment. The dog was like his shadow, and Alastor had enough shadows about him. 

Alastor lengthened his strides, attempting to intercept Countess and the new client. He stepped in front of them, his smile sharpening to a point and his eyes narrowing on his target. 

Alastor was taller than the new demon by at least a few inches, and he couldn't help but feel a sighing river of relief run through him. A power play to his advantage. Perhaps because he was taller than the demon, he could attempt to frighten him off. After all, everyone was frightened of the Radio Demon. 

"Hello," Alastor drawled out, the static thickening in the air. "You must be the new client. Alastor, a pleasure to meet you."

The new demon's eyes narrowed in knowing, an age-old resentment flickering in his yellow irises. A spark of recognition crossed his features but nothing else of consequence. Alastor felt like he knew this demon, that same look in his eye...it reminded him of the stare that always looked back at him in the mirror. 

He had the eyes of a cunning manipulator, and Alastor was a perfect judge of character when it came to men like this particular demon. It takes one to know one. 

"Theron," The demon curtly replied, holding out his hand in a show of courtesy. "You were supposed to be my tour guide."

"Ah, yes, well." Alastor chuckled darkly. "I had other matters to attend to. I see that Countess has been showing you the hotel. How very  _ thoughtful  _ of her." 

"Alastor, I would rather not do this with you right now. Theron's tour is not nearly close to done, and I have other things I have to do--" 

"Ah, yes, yes, Countess! I completely understand. Which is why..." Alastor stepped in between Theron and Countess, wrapping his arm around her hip. "I must speak with you  _ right now _ . I'm sure the fine gentleman can wait a bit longer." 

"Alastor." Countess seethed, trying to pull away from his vice-like grip. 

"Now, now--"

" _ Alastor.  _ Unhand me."

"Gl--"

"LET GO!" Countess screamed, jerking away from him. In a powerful blast of concussed air, Alastor was knocked back. He felt himself flying through the air before his back hit the wall. 

Alastor looked up in shock, his smile slackening.

It wasn't so much that it hurt because surprise melted away anything else. 

Had she just used magic?

Had she just violated the rules of the game?

But that's when he saw something else.

Countess's wing was twitching strangely and a pained look crossed her face. 

Had she used her wing to push him away?

Alastor knew that she had some semblance of natural strength, but was she strong enough to shove him across the lobby? That must've been it because he didn't feel the burn of their deal against his left palm. She hadn't used magic.

"THAT WAS FUCKING AWESOME!" A voice broke through the thick silence.

Angel Dust sprang up from the bar counter, startling a snoozing Husk who had somehow stayed asleep through the entire fiasco until now. 

"Alastor are you okay?" Charlie came rushing from the kitchen, her golden blonde hair flowing in tow. 

"I am just fine!" Alastor said, brushing off his jacket and pants. "Although, I think Countess needs far more medical attention than I." 

Countess looked away shamefully, hiding her injured wing. "It's only a sprain--"

Charlie took Countess's hand, leading her back into the kitchen. Theron stood a moment to glare at Alastor before following them. 

Seconds later, Vaggie came storming out of the kitchen, her eyes like glowing coals of fury.

"What the  _ hell  _ is wrong with you?!" She cried out, stopping short of him and throwing her arms in the air. "What possessed you to treat her like that?! Damn it, she told you to let go!" 

"...I gotta agree with Vags on this one, Smiles." Angel sorrowfully piped up, more relaxed from his early spurt of admiration. "That's not how you treat a friend."

"Like you know  _ so  _ much about friendship, Angel." Vaggie glowered, turning around to glare at him. "Besides, who gave you permission to interrupt my scolding?"

"Fucking hell, lady!" Angel exclaimed. "I'm tryin' to agree with ya here!" 

"Well, you're not helping." 

"Maybe if ya'd actually listen to what I'm sayin' for once, you'd see that I  _ am _ helping." 

"Like hell you are!" 

Alastor looked back and forth between the two bickering and decided to take an impromptu leave. Alastor swung his leg around, attempting to walk away before Husk pulled him aside. 

Husk gripped Alastor's arm, leading him down the hallway. 

"My good friend, as much as I enjoy our getaway strategy, I fail to see where we're going." Alastor quipped, his patience wearing thin as Husk's claws dug into his sleeve. 

"We gotta talk about Countess, pal." Husk growled. "Because you're in way over your fucking head." 

"And you're some sort of expert?" 

"I'm better than fucking  _ Angel Dust _ . That's for damn sure."

Alastor ripped his arm from Husk's claws, standing still in the hallway.

"I just ran away from a lecture, Husker. I don't intend to stand around for another one!" Alastor said, trying his hardest not to snarl at his old friend. 

"Fine then." Husk snarled, stabbing a finger into Alastor's chest. "But don't come cryin' to me because you lose her. At this rate, she'll  _ never  _ be your friend."

Husk stomped away, leaving Alastor in the hallway alone. 

Alastor looked to the ground before continuing on his way, casting aside the doubts that began to plague his mind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all have no idea how long I've been waiting to introduce Theron to the story.
> 
> Crap's about to go down. 
> 
> Now, needless to say, Theron has made a guest appearance in the story twice already. I tried to make the foreshadowing as subtle as possible but maybe now that you're looking for it, you'll see all the hints I left behind about his character. But my beautiful lion-bird-man has officially made his debut. 
> 
> For those wondering, Theron is based off of a mythical creature called Piasa. Feel free to look it up! 
> 
> As always, don't forget to leave kudos and a comment. 
> 
> I beg of you, please...leave comment. XD I love them all. 
> 
> Goodbye for now, my lovely readers! I would not be here if it weren't for you.
> 
> Au revoir. <3


	23. Someone Who Understands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***
> 
> "I suppose I was mostly afraid." 
> 
> "Afraid of what?" 
> 
> Countess's eyes began to trail the soft undergrowth of her garden. 
> 
> I was afraid of what I might do to him...what I might do to myself. Maybe I was afraid of hurting him because deep down I-- 
> 
> ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS. IS. SO. LATE. 
> 
> I AM VERY SORRY.

"Seventy years, eh?" 

"Yes,"

"Did it ever get lonely?"

Theron's question gave Countess pause as she strolled through her garden. The flowers, diverse and rare for Hell, bloomed in the cover of darkness. Their petals reaching towards the sky, uncovering from the soil of the earth. They now dared to crawl up into the air, no longer oppressed by the heat of the day. Vines of purple hue wound their way around thick branches of trees and the wall of her house. Her garden housed so much life, despite being surrounded by so much death. 

"It did sometimes," Countess admitted, continuing her stroll with her newfound friend. "Don't get me wrong, Rudy is wonderful company, and I love her dearly...it just got so quiet in the house at moments. It often felt like I was the only one there." 

"It must've been hard," Theron whispered, a tense sadness hidden in his voice. "Living all those years isolated and hurt." 

Countess hummed her agreement. 

"But...one thing I don't understand is why. Why would you want to turn away from everyone else? For  _ seventy  _ years, no less! That's a long time to be gone." Theron explained, the words slipping from his tongue quickly. 

"Alastor betrayed me. He broke my heart and shattered my trust." Countess spat, her anger returning. Her wings flared a bit and she winced with pain. Her left wing was still healing. The sprain had left her unable to fly and in incredible pain for the past three days. Regardless of her discomfort, especially at night when she tried to sleep, Alastor had distanced himself from her. Countess was relieved at that, any more interaction with the infuriating demon and she might lose her head. 

"I understand  _ that _ . But  _ why  _ did that make you go into self-exile? Why didn't you enact revenge? Why didn't you beat him to a pulp? I know you're capable of--how do they say it nowadays--whooping his ass." Theron pointed out matter-of-factly. "So, you being angry with him doesn't really explain why you would disappear for seventy years."

"Perhaps it took me that long to heal?" Countess suggested, her patience soon wearing thin. As well-meaning as Theron was, he was incredibly nosey. He didn't mean to be, of course, he was only curious. She shouldn't be taking so much offense at his questions. "I suppose I was mostly afraid." 

"Afraid of what?" 

Countess's eyes began to trail the soft undergrowth of her garden. 

_ I was afraid of what I might do to him...what I might do to myself. Maybe I was afraid of hurting him because deep down I--  _

"Afraid I would fall back into temptation." Countess lied suddenly, keeping her feelings locked away in a fortified chest. "He's a very suave character. I could've fallen for his charm again. I needed to take time to regain my senses."

"Seventy years?"

"I hold intense grudges," Countess admitted, this at least, was true. 

Theron let out a bemused chuckle, eliciting a smile from Countess. 

"Well, I suppose I have to agree with you there. You hold  _ intense  _ grudges."

Countess scoffed, but her mirth was evident. "Oh, please. You hardly know me! How would you know I hold intense grudges?" 

"Why, the news, of course. You're quite the celebrity, you know." 

"Really?" Countess asked, a sense akin to dread pooling in her gut. "How much does the public know?"

"Not much, other than your seventy-year departure, sudden appearance, and disdain for Alastor. I can't say I blame you, though." 

"For?" 

"Hating Alastor. It truly isn't that hard." Theron's voice suddenly grew cold, his golden stare growing hard and menacing. His gaze seemed distant, as though thoughts and memories were rolling beneath his skull. 

Countess recoiled a bit. "You hate Alastor? If I recall, you only met him for a few seconds. And him hurting my wing shouldn't make you that angry...we hardly know each other."

"Oh, he and I have..." His voice trailed off, and his eyes met hers. "A history. Even so, what he did to you makes me hate him even more."

"Theron--"

"He should've respected your privacy, he should've respected your space. Any true gentleman wouldn't grab a lady like that." Theron spat. 

"True, but I can handle myself against him." This wasn't entirely true. Sure, she had some physical strength, she proved that by knocking Alastor clear across the lobby with merely her wing. But, she had injured herself in doing so. She wasn't well versed in any kind of combat that didn't involve her powers. Even so, those were somewhat unreliable. Especially since she couldn't use magic against Alastor, or else she'd break the deal. As much as it pained her to admit, she was about as useless as a teenage girl. Alastor outclassed her in two things. One, size. Alastor was taller than her by a bit. Not an overly substantial amount, but one that would grant him some advantage in a fight. Two, he was male. As much as she knew women were on equal playing fields with men concerning mind, soul, and heart...she could unfortunately not say the same for physicality. Granted, she wasn't the most athletic by nature, some women would surely be able to beat Alastor in a wrestling match. But Countess was by no means an ideal specimen to wrangle Alastor. Even Cody had been a struggle to subdue, and that was when she was using her powers to aid in her strength. She couldn't do that with Alastor. Indeed, she had put herself at more of a disadvantage with this deal than she originally thought. It didn't matter much, though, she had others who would stand up for her. 

"I'm sure, doesn't anger me any less." 

Countess turned to Theron with a soft smile, she placed a clawed hand on his shoulder. "It flatters me that you care so much. No one, aside from Rudy, has cared about me that much in a long time. It's refreshing."

Theron shook his head lightly, his features brightening up again. "Enough talk about depressing things. How about we learn more about each other? Would you like to go first, milady?" 

"Oh, how chivalrous of you." Countess chuckled. "Please,"

With a snap of her fingers, she and Theron were transported to the end of the garden, on a marble bench overlooking the rolling hills. "Take a seat." 

Theron's eyes widened in amazement as he patted the cold stone beneath him. "How incredible. You accomplish it with such ease!" 

"I practice a lot, actually. Teleporting didn't come naturally to me. Actually, I was taught by Ala--" Countess stopped herself from saying his name. No, no longer would he plague her every waking and sleeping moment. Tonight wasn't about Alastor, it was about getting to know her new friend. "Where would you like me to start?"

"At the beginning, please. In as much as detail as you'll allow." Theron said, leaning back onto the wall behind her. 

"Ah, let's see. I don't quite remember where I was born, only that I was left at an orphanage as an infant. The same day as another girl, my childhood and adulthood best friend. Her name was--" Countess's voice cut abruptly. Did she dare tell a stranger about her friend in life? No, she didn't even tell Rudy about her. It was best to leave her name lost forever with Countess's memories. "Karen. Karen and I were best friends growing up and even when we left the orphanage. I had a strange fascination for life at a young age, believing that I deserved to live it to it's fullest, despite what labels were placed on me. Being an orphaned female made things extremely difficult for me. I was the lowest of the low, destined to remain scum of the earth and kiss the boots of my oppressors. Of course, I didn't stand for this. Once Karen and I graduated from grade school, I set about my dream to become a politician. But not just any politician, the  _ best _ there ever was. 

"Of course, it wasn't an easy trek. Karen and I were roommates in a small apartment. We had scarcely money, and any money we had was put into my funds for college. As I studied law and politics, Karen tiredly worked to support both of us. I saw her hard work, her willingness to throw her own life away for my success. I vowed to pay her back for her generosity, and nothing would stand in my way. Eventually, I graduated from college, top of my class. Soon, I wormed my way into England's politicians. I was never permitted in Parliament partakings, they believed it wasn't proper for a woman to be involved in such important matters. However, my continued success caught the attention of one very important individual. The Queen of England herself." 

Theron let out a short whistle. "That is very impressive. I'm sure the queen meets plenty of important people, so that must've been a big deal for you."

Countess nodded. "Indeed, it was. She and I took to each other rather quickly. She was a young queen, her mothing passing merely two years before her ascension. So the role model of a strong and confident woman playing politics was inspiring to her. She helped me gain an edge with the other men and thus helped me grow even more. Karen was my constant supporter and a true inspiration to keep going, though. She was my campaign manager and a very good one at that. She was constantly helping me maintain my image and good reputation. Little did she know, though, my devotion to her ran much deeper than she could have ever anticipated. While my success was my own, and I was a fully competent politician, I made absolutely certain that nothing and no one would stand in my way. So, when I felt threatened by another official, I simply got rid of them. I never once questioned my actions, I was doing it all for Karen, and no one would stand in my way. I was so precise with my victims, and there were never any witnesses. But one day, the police..." Countess paused, she hated this part of her story. It was the one thing she most despised about her living days, the days where everything went wrong. 

"They somehow found out about my...insatiable habits. They chased me into the countryside and I hid in a cabin for a few months. That was until J--until  _ they  _ found me. Shot me on sight. I woke up here in a state of frenzy. I don't remember much of my first years in Hell, but I do remember the state of alarm I spread throughout the lands, and I was eventually dubbed an overlord. Then Alastor happened, but I'm sure you've heard enough about him." 

"I suppose," Theron nodded absently. "I'm sorry about your death. It doesn't sound pleasant in any way."

"Dying is unpleasant," Countess murmured. "Regardless of how old or young you are, regardless of your gender or height, regardless of how you died--death is never pleasant for anyone. In all reality, my death is just like anyone else's. I believe it's what we do in life that makes it so different, makes everything so different." 

"Do you ever regret it? What you did?" Theron asked softly, plucking a vine from the wall of the house. He turned it over in his claws before letting it drift out into the wind. 

"Some days I wonder why I would ever do something like that. How the sweet child who used to play by the brook would ever want to steal someone's life for their own selfish gain. But the more I think of it, the more I start to resent the being who claims to have created me in the first place. Why would God want to create a monster that would ruin so many lives? Why would He let me do so many awful things? But then I remember something a priest once told me when I was little." 

"What did the priest say?" 

Countess looked up to the crimson sky, watching the clouds part against a starless sky. 

"We are born with free-will. The God I hated so much, gave me a right to choose my own path. I was the commander of my own destiny. So, in the end, the only person I can blame for my actions..." Her voice trailed off, disappearing in the breeze of the night. 

"Is me." 

* * *

Theron and Countess were getting along  _ too _ well. 

Over the past several days, Alastor took to observing them from a distance. Any closer and he may explode. 

He observed the way that Theron looked down upon Countess, with such a soft tenderness, like he understood Countess's deepest desires. Those liquid golden eyes held the one thing Alastor's would never hold. Compassion.

Theron would brush his hand against Countess's in such a kind way, smiling upon her with the softest of expressions. And she would return these gestures. Smiling up at him too with something akin to the same understanding. Like they were the second half that both had been missing for decades. 

Alastor hated that they interacted with each other like this. 

The laughter, the small talk, the smiles. This was the first time in his life that Alastor admitted to hating a smile. 

He despised Theron's smile. It made his blood boil and stomach retch. 

There was something about the winged-lion-demon that set every nerve of Alastor's on fire. 

And of course, it wasn't jealousy. 

Alastor never got jealous. 

What was there to ever be jealous of? 

He was well respected and feared in Hell, everyone knew his name and face, he was very powerful, and he was exceptionally charming and popular in comparison. He was everything this Theron was not. 

Theron was a demon with no name, no powers, and no significance behind him. He may dress like a wealthy businessman, but he was not. Theron was a demon that laid in the shadows of others. A dead beat scavenger cresting on the success of others. 

Granted, this was all Alastor got from simply observing him from afar. He assumed he was much worse in person.

Husk insisted he was being dramatic, Charlie found Theron sweet, and Vaggie--even  _ Vaggie _ thought he was a fine fellow. 

But Alastor was a pretty good judge of character, and he knew this Theron wasn't all he said he was. 

Currently, Alastor was sitting at the hotel's dining room table with a mug of black coffee in one hand and the other tapping a pen on the wood. He was supposed to be doing paperwork, but his thoughts were consumed by theories of the newcomer. He was finding ways to get rid of Theron and once again have Countess all to himself. 

Alastor felt a tug at his sleeve, dispelling his murderous thoughts. His eyes rested on Niffty who had small patches of dust clinging to her skin and dress. She had probably been cleaning before and his suspicions were correct, considering she was holding a feather duster.

"Al, are you okay?" She asked her tiny voice barely a whisper in the large room. 

"Of course, darling!" Alastor chuckled. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I dunno," Niffty murmured, messing with the hem of her skirt. "You just seem kind of weird. I've never seen you so bothered by someone else before. I mean, no one gets under your skin. And that's because you're so awesome and  _ you _ !"

"Niffty, sweetheart," Alastor cooed, picking her up from the ground and placing her on his lap like he used to years ago. "I appreciate your concern, but I am fine." 

"Is it because Countess is ignoring you?" Niffty blurted out.

Her question surprised him for a moment, but he regained his composure soon after. "Of course not. Countess has been ignoring me for seventy years. I'm quite used to it."

"Okay, if you're so sure." 

"I am  _ definitely  _ sure." Alastor nodded, placing Niffty back on the ground with a gentle pat on her head. "Now, go finish your cleaning. We actually have guests now!" 

"Oh, yeah!" Niffty shouted excitedly. "I sometimes forget that! I kind of can't believe it sometimes. Can you?" 

Before he could answer, she zipped off to another room in the hotel to clean. 

Alastor completely abandoned his paperwork with an audible sigh. With a wave of his hand, the papers disappeared to his office so he could sit and stew over his emotions. 

Niffty was right. He was being far too dramatic about this whole ordeal. 

Countess hadn't been friendly to him even before Theron's arrival, and Theron hasn't done anything yet to elicit Alastor's hatred...except for look, talk, touch, and  _ breathe  _ around Countess. 

This shouldn't bother him this much.

Countess didn't like him and didn't want to be around him. She made that very clear every time they encountered each other. 

And yet... 

There was that little feeling inside of him. 

That feeling of loss. 

Of course, he missed the long nights he'd spend with Countess atop her balcony. Those days where they would walk for endless hours just talking about nothing in particular. He missed the days when they would be so close to each other that their bodies nearly brushed. He missed the feeling of her gentle fingers through his hair as she messed with it. Ah, yes, he just missed  _ her _ . 

The smell of her, so enticing. 

Her company, so interesting. 

Her words, so comforting. 

Yes, he missed Countess.

He missed her much more than he would ever admit out loud.

It was why he was so willing to follow Angel's advice. 

_ Angel Dust _ . Of all demons to seek advice from, he ran to the spider. 

He had become that desperate. 

This was because every time Countess walked away from him, ignored him, or glowered at him...a pang deep within his chest would send his mind reeling. Sometimes, he wonders how he let it go this far. Alastor wonders why he betrayed her, why he didn't kill her. 

His afterlife would have been much easier if he'd killed her that night. 

But he hadn't.

And now her figure came to haunt in the worst way possible. 

Alastor avoided the residents and faculty of the hotel for the rest of the day. If he were in the lobby, he would have seen Countess and Theron walking together. He was broken enough as it was, he didn't need his day ruined further. 

So, when midnight drew near, and he realized that he would not sleep that night, he did something he had not done in a long time. 

He sat down at the bar, swirling a shot of whiskey between his two fingers.

Normally he went for more elegant alcohol on the rare occasion he drank, but tonight he liked the sting that followed down his tender throat. It distracted him from the other stinging sensation spreading throughout his gut to his collarbone. 

"You should probably stop." Husk suggested, glancing at him through lidded eyes. "You've already gone way over your limit. You'll regret it in the morning." 

"Husker, my good friend, at this point, the pain in the morning will be minimal to the pain I feel in my heart," Alastor grumbled, downing another shot. 

"Yeesh," Husk grimaced. "Haven't seen you this bothered since, well,  _ never _ . What the fuck is wrong with you? Since when do you have a  _ heart  _ to feel pain in?"

"Everyone has a heart, Husk."

"I'm not talkin' about the blood pumping one, Al." Husk grumbled, crossing his arms and leaning back slightly. "I'm talkin' about the one you feel in here," He pointed to his head. "And in here." He pointed to his chest. 

"Let me reiterate then." Alastor sneered. "Everyone has a soul, Husk, or else I wouldn't be sitting here before you."

"Alright, sure. But you're the ruthless Radio Demon. You cast away the human part of your soul a long fucking time ago."

"What makes you so sure I'm less human than anyone else in this hotel?" Alastor snapped, the alcohol on his breath drawing malice from his words like daggers. 

"Look, don't get pissy at me. I'm just sayin', since when have you ever cared about something this much? Other than your mom." Husk pointed out. 

"...Never." Alastor admitted quietly. 

"Exactly, so, what's wrong with you?"

"I don't know."

"I do."

Alastor glanced up from the mahogany of the bar. "Care to share?"

"If you don't know, it's pretty pointless if I tell you." 

"Why's that?" 

"Because it's obvious to everyone but you. If you can't see it now on your own, what makes you think  _ I  _ can make you see it?" 

Later that night, Alastor forgo his drinking. He instead opted to lay on his bed, and ponder Husk's interesting words. 

What was he missing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, tadah, hope it was worth the long wait. 
> 
> Finals caught up to me, and I had to focus all of my attention on that. But here it is! 
> 
> I hope you all liked it. 
> 
> Please, leave a comment and a kudos(if you haven't already). I love comments and am always excited to hear what you all think of the story. Or you can just say random stuff, like, "I hate peanut butter." I dunno. Talk ta me. 
> 
> OH. Before I forget: I have an Instagram now. So you all can go check that out if you wanna. There's some Scars Don't Heal stuff on there. It's mostly art--actually, it's ALL art. Expect more SDH stuff to appear on there soon, though!


	24. Drifting Further Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *** 
> 
> "Why, hello, Charlie!" He said enthusiastically, a stark contrast to the pain he felt deep within his bones. "Have you come to join me at looking over our documents?"
> 
> "Actually, Al, I think it's time we had a talk..." She said sheepishly from the other end of the hallway. Her dark eyes were downcast and her lips tightened into a small frown.
> 
> ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERE IT IS. 
> 
> I'm not gonna talk anymore because this is so late and you guys deserve to read and anyway-- 
> 
> *bows and opens up curtains* Enjoy the angst show.

Alastor wasn't acting like himself. 

Everyone at the hotel noticed. 

His scarlet eyes were droopy, and his shoulders sagged when he walked. 

The radio ambiance that followed him wherever he went, faded to a dull hum. He hardly spoke to anyone, save Charlie about business plans and dues. He even avoided Niffty, who's eyes were always following Alastor with pained recognition. 

Angel followed him on occasion, trying to talk to him about something, but the Radio Demon would quickly wave him off and disappear around the bend. 

To say Charlie was worried would be an understatement. 

This definitely wasn't normal Alastor behavior. She'd asked Husk if this had something to do with personal issues. Husk insisted that whatever it was, Alastor would work through it in time. Charlie wondered if it had anything to do with his past life. But that theory was thrown out the window the moment Countess walked in for work that morning. 

Alastor had been sipping a cup of coffee and signing off on papers with Charlie. The two shared a few words, but they were mostly business-related. But when the front door opened and Countess walked in with Rudy behind her, his eyes widened, and his back became rigid. 

He immediately looked away and picked up his documents. 

"I think it's best if we convene at another time." He said quickly before exiting the room. 

Charlie watched him with sadness in her eyes. Moments later, Theron appeared from the staircase, as well dressed as usual. 

He and Countess greeted each other with a hug, and Charlie couldn't help but smile a little. 

Theron and Countess had become really close in the past week. One of Charlie's oldest friends looked the happiest she'd ever seen her. Charlie couldn't help but wonder where their friendship would lead. Maybe someday, Charlie would finally get to attend a wedding! But maybe she was getting a little ahead of herself... 

But there did seem to be a special spark between Countess and Theron. Something much deeper than friendship. Maybe that’s what was bothering Alastor so much. But was Countess really _that_ important to him? 

Alastor had never shown her any signs of caring for anyone on a deep and personal level. Sure, he had really good friends, but he seemed very happy with only friendships in his life. He never actively sought out any romantic relationships, and Charlie accepted that to just be how he was. But maybe there was something more to him and Countess than she could see on the surface. 

Could Alastor actually _love_ Countess? 

It didn’t seem very plausible at first, but the more Charlie thought about it, the more she began to doubt herself. From observation, she could tell Alastor didn’t feel the kind of love that Charlie felt for Vaggie. It was a different kind of love, a new kind of love maybe. 

But she shouldn’t be jumping to conclusions. She hardly knew Alastor. He was her business partner and friend, though, so if he ever needed help, she would be there for him. 

* * *

He knows they know. 

Alastor has been avoiding wherever Countess may be for fear of losing control of himself. 

He had never felt such emptiness before. It followed from the hollow feeling in his throat and traveled down to his stomach. It was like a fire that licked at the sides of his eyes every time he put too much thought into it. Nothing has ever put him in such a state before. He has obsessed over certain things, of course, it was what made him successful in his living life. 

But he's never lost those things he's pursued. 

For nearly six months he has chased and chased Countess relentlessly--and yet his efforts remained unfruitful. Alastor began to realize that the tightness of his chest was the result of loss.

He had lost someone very dear to him, someone whom he treasured and respected above most others. Countess was a good friend, but he lost her too soon. And worst of all, it was _his fault_. 

Only Alastor was to blame for how it turned out. He should never have made that deal with Lucifer. He should've just turned his head away on that fateful day when he saw her across the way during that party. He should've never approached her afterward, and he should have never let himself grow so close to her. 

Oh, he had tried to place the blame on someone else. Perhaps accuse Lucifer for what had transpired, but it was ultimately his own choice to accept the challenge. And he doomed himself to follow through with it. 

So, for the first time ever, he could finally figure out what that feeling in his chest was. More than loss he felt... 

Guilt. 

He felt guilt for his actions against Countess, and her burned, bloodied, and tears streaked face haunted his dreams at night. 

That would explain the bags under his eyes, he gandered. 

Something stopped him before he entered his room. Apparently, his earlier escape down the dark hallway hadn't gone unnoticed. 

"Why, hello, Charlie!" He said enthusiastically, a stark contrast to the pain he felt deep within his bones. "Have you come to join me at looking over our documents?"

"Actually, Al, I think it's time we had a talk..." She said sheepishly from the other end of the hallway. Her dark eyes were downcast and her lips tightened into a small frown.

"About what, dear?" He asked, feigning innocence. Hopefully, she'd leave quickly. 

"About Countess." 

His eyes went wide for a moment, his hand falling from the doorknob. 

"There's not much to talk about." 

Charlie sighed long, and her eyes reached up to meet his, worry swimming in her deep orbs. 

"Look, I know you've been avoiding Countess."

He scoffed, waving his hand back and forth dismissively. "Oh! How silly of you! I have _not_ been _avoiding_ Countess! No, no, no!"

Her earlier look of concern melted into a look of unamusement. Clearly, the Princess of Hell knew he was lying straight through his teeth. And as good as he was at normally avoiding conversations, he knew that this one he couldn't escape from. 

"Alastor, I know about you and Countess. Rosie and Mimzy told us everything that happened. I just wanted to let you know--" 

Alastor's grin sharpened at that. His eyes began to glow an eerie crimson and he stood straight and tall over Charlie. 

"You shouldn't have stuck your nose into something that _doesn't concern you._ "

Charlie swallowed hard. "W-well, we're business partners. Whatever you do affects the state of the hotel. Which means that this _is_ something that concerns me. Especially since it's about _another_ employee." 

"These are personal matters," Alastor snarled, his temper somewhat dissipating. "I should have those girl's hides for revealing such things."

"They were right for telling me. Now I know how to help." 

He laughed darkly, the sound bouncing across the walls of the abandoned hallway. 

"Help?! Charlie, Charlie, _Charlie,_ " He took a step behind the smaller demon, pulling her tightly to his side. "How in the Nine Circles could you _possibly_ help me with anything? I have everything I already need!"

"I think you just need to talk about your feelings. You know, let out some of that tension you're holding in. It's obviously taken a toll on you. I just want to alleviate some of the burdens on your shoulders." 

Alastor softened a bit. It was quite sweet of her to be concerned for him. He would admit that his current predicament had stolen precious sleep from him. And that he more than toiled over thoughts of Countess. Yes, he had been rather tired, restless, and lost for a few days and, perhaps, it would be nice to talk about...feelings. 

Oh! Who was he kidding? 

He didn't _feel_ anything! This was probably all just some strange sickness that had overtaken him and it would soon pass. 

"Charlie, I appreciate your concern, but I assure you that I am completely fine! I'm sure whatever phase I currently find myself in will pass." 

He let go of her, approaching his door again. 

"You shouldn't just push this under the rug! You _need_ to work out whatever your feeling or it will fester and--and grow into--" 

"Grow into what? Hm?" He asked. "Torment? Anger? Hate? Darling...this is _Hell_! One feels these emotions daily! Now, if you'll excuse me--"

"I know about your Asexuality!" 

The record screech shattered the minute silence of the hotel. It shrieked across the walls, causing paintings and photos to quake and tremble. His hands began to shake, and he slowly turned around to face Charlie.

"My... _What_?" He whispered quietly. 

She seemed confused at first, tilting her head slightly. "You-you're Asexual, right?" 

"Dear, I don't understand the term you're using. I've never heard it before." He tapped his chin slowly. "Well, other than using it to describe the method plants use to reproduce. But last time I checked, I am not a plant."

"So...you don't know?" 

"Don't know _what_?" He ground out, becoming slightly impatient. 

"That not being attracted to people is normal." 

He didn't say a word. 

How on earth did she know _that_? 

"That's the technical term for it. Asexual. They probably never had a word for it in the 'thirties. But it describes people who don't have a sexual attraction to any sex or gender." 

So, there _was_ a word for it. 

Enlightening.

He blinked a few times before responding. "That's lovely, Charlie, but I don't see what this has to do with Countess?" 

"Well, you're probably confused about your feelings for Countess." She said, beginning to play with her fingers. "Because I think you're Aromamtic too. And that means that you don't have a _romantic_ attraction to any sex or gender--" 

"Dear, as confusing as it is to hear you talking about sexuality--which is something that is _also_ very personal--you have still failed to tell me what this has to do with Countess. And how did you ever figure this out? I've never spoken about my...unusual lack of attraction to anyone but Rosie." His voice grew dark and distorted. "And if she told you that too--"

"No! No!" Charlie quickly said, waving her arms side to side. "She didn't tell me! I just kind of figured it was the case because you've never really shown interest in anyone before." 

"Still..."

"Okay," Charlie said softly, hanging her head low. "I know I kind of came out hot, but I just want you to know that it's not wrong for you to feel emotions--and it's okay for them to be confusing. That's why I want you to talk about them. I think you're just having trouble figuring out what you feel towards Countess." 

"I know exactly how I feel about her!" 

"Really?!" 

"NOTHING! I feel absolutely nothing for her!" 

"Alastor--" 

He whipped around sharply, twisting the doorknob violently and pushing it open. 

"It is as you said," He spat under his breath. "I don't feel love for _anyone_." 

And with that, he shut the door. The click of the lock bouncing across the lonely walls of his room. 

He decided to take a walk later that night to dispel the uncomfortable feeling that had settled beneath his skin. And it wasn't the earlier things he had been festering over about Countess, no. This was a whole new set of emotions that toiled inside of him and ate away at his thoughts. 

As he walked through the hallways of the hotel, he heard hushed whispers coming from one of the resident's rooms. His smile crept dangerously across his face.

Perhaps what he truly needed was to torment the acolytes of the hotel. It's been a while since he had real fun with them. 

He melted into the shadows, creeping along the walls until he reached the room. He craned his neck and peered through the single crack in the door. Inside the small room was a tiny little lamb demon curled up on her bed with none other than Charlotte Magne sitting beside her. 

His lips curled over his teeth, recounting the earlier conversation he had with Charlie. He would most likely avoid her as well in the morning. 

It was wholly inappropriate the way that she addressed him. Like she knew everything that he was feeling, like she knew who he was underneath the radio facade. She had no right to speak to him about sexuality, regardless if he could finally relate his emotions to words.

He was about to walk away with the lamb's small voice filtered in through the crack of the door. The stillness of her voice caught him by surprise. While the small demon was normally soft-spoken, there was deep sadness and uncertainty to it tonight. And it made him curious. 

Perhaps he could spare a few moments to listen to her quarrels, if only to use it as leverage later. 

So, Alastor settled down out of sight beyond the door. 

"Miss Charlie... I don't know what I should do." The little lamb whispered, shifting under the burgundy covers. 

"I think you should just tell them how you feel. Victor's a nice demon." Charlie spoke back, pulling a stray strand of hair from the lamb's face. 

"But...I don't think Victor likes me back. What if they get mad?" 

"I think it's better to express your feelings than hold it all inside. Besides, how will they ever know how you feel if you don't tell them? You might be missing out! Maybe they like you back!" 

"Why would they...?" The lamb sniffled slightly. "There's nothing to love about me. I'm not pretty or tall."

"Well, love doesn't just come from physical appeal, Casey. Sometimes, love comes in many forms. Someone doesn't have to think you're pretty to love you. Sometimes, people love you for who you are. What your beautiful little heart--" Charlie pressed the palm of her hand to the little demon's chest. "of yours has to offer." 

"So...love can be whatever?"

"Of course!" Charlie exclaimed. "Love is whatever you make it! There are no rules to tell you how to love people. Everyone expresses it differently! For example, Vaggie and I often express our love with long hugs and small kisses. Of course...we, ya know, do more intimate things in our alone time--but that time isn't the only way we show each other our love. There are _so_ many ways to display affection, and I think everyone will keep finding _new_ ways!" 

"So...in the end, it doesn't really matter what I look like or talk like? People will love me for who I am in their own way even if I'm not pretty?" 

"Yes!" 

Casey went quiet for a moment. "Thanks, Miss Charlie. I think I understand now." 

"Of course. If you have any more questions, I will happily answer them!" 

He couldn't bear to sit there any longer. 

His head was swimming with more thoughts than he could ever imagine. Alastor made his way down the hallway, his fingers twitching ever so slightly every few seconds. 

If what Charlie said was true--that love did not just show itself in a single form--then could he possibly... 

Could he actually _love_ Countess?

He violently shook the thought from his head. 

What a preposterous idea! 

He was Alastor the Radio Demon! 

He didn't feel love in any way shape or form. 

The only thing he needed right now, was blooding dripping down his claws. 

Not this mushy gushy feeling sloshing about in his chest. 

Him. Love? 

How silly... 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, this took a long time. 
> 
> Not only was I also going through some self-discovery(finally admitted I'm Ace, took my long enough XD), but I also HATED everything I wrote for this chapter. But I decided that this was good enough. Also, Victor (who is non-binary if you didn't catch the drift in the chapter) and Casey have a little love-story happening on the side! We'll get to see a little more of them later! Let's just say, they're relationship might be a foil(if my literature geeks get me) to Alastor and Countess's relationship. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you all for being so patient. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! 
> 
> Don't forget to leave a comment and a kudos--
> 
> BUT HOLY CRAP GUYS. That Addict music video?!! *chefs kiss* HAZBIN HOTEL ON TV?! *excited sqealing* I'm so EXCITED EVERYONE YOU HAVE NO IDEA-- 
> 
> I'm just happy--I'll shut up now. XD 
> 
> Have a wonderful day everyone!


	25. 200 Kudos Special

Hello! An update on the special! I've only had one vote in the course of about three-ish days(and that's totally okay!), but I'm deciding to do something much more simple for the 200 kudos special.

Instead, I'm going to release the official Spotify playlist for this story! The playlist outlines the ENTIRE story and is _still_ a work in progress but for those who want to, you can try and piece together what's in store next... 

Somehow, I kept conveniently forgetting to announce it? But I've been wanting to for months. 

So, here ya go! 

Have a playlist, you beautiful readers! 

[Playlist!](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/177TF9SuWQMJDi0qPfcuir?si=wp2CF2HDRS2c1yp45mB4ng)

HOORAH.

Thank you all for being so amazing and patient! I'm currently working on the next chapter so it'll hopefully be out soon! 

<3


	26. Sweet and Sorrowful Altercations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***   
> Alastor slammed his fists on the table, his rage boiling over his normally calm composure. Shadows began to rise above him, drowning the office with suffocating heat. Angel's eyes widened a bit, and he took a step back. 
> 
> "You better watch what you say around me," Alastor growled, his eyes pulsing scarlet in the dim room. "I could kill you with the snap of my fingers. It is that easy for me. The only thing stopping me from ripping off your irritating head from your shoulders is the fact that Charlie would be livid. I may be powerful, but I'm no idiot. I could never stand up against the princess of Hell. But do know, I could tear you apart and put you back together again without precious Charlie ever knowing the difference. I could torture you ceaselessly, but leave you standing enough to fool her. Do not test me, Angel Dust." 
> 
> ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! I apologize for such a long posting gap but here is the next chapter! 
> 
> Thank you all for waiting so patiently. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy it! <3

"You know, Alastor and I have a history."

Countess tilted her head towards Theron, her ears twitching slightly at the soft tone of his voice. She didn't say anything, merely acknowledged she heard him. 

Theron continued on his own. "I wasn't anything special. Just happened to know the right people down here. I acquired my own little plot of land and grew my estate on the backs of hard-working demons looking for honest jobs. It was like that for a few years..." His voice grew cold in the still night air. His fists clenched against the polished white marble of Countess's balcony. 

Her hand, trembling and frozen, reached out and found purchase on his own. His eyes turned to hers, sparkling like molten gold in the moonlight. Theron took a deep sigh, his feathery wings fluttering slightly. 

"He came in the middle of the night. I had no idea..." His voice stilled, sadness rippling the cold air of the darkness. "He slaughtered everyone and destroyed everything. I only escaped because a loyal employee sacrificed himself for me. I still hear the screams..." 

Countess drifted her eyes downcast. Immeasurable sympathy flooded her veins, chilling her insides--but also the fiery heat of anger coursed through her. Her free hands dug into the stone marble of her balcony, and her glowing eyes narrowed at the moon. 

"I am so sorry." She spoke softly, venom lacing her words. "He's a creature of destruction and chaos. He cares for no one but himself. Alastor is a poison in this world--even in the deepest, darkest corners of Hell. He does not deserve the power and respect he has gained. None of them do..." 

Theron whipped his head to her, his eyes wide and knowing. "So, you agree too?" 

"Agree with what?" 

"That overlords are a detriment to Hell's society. They're just greedy dictators fueled by the thrill of power. They're not  _ real  _ leaders." Theron explained quickly, a light adorning his face. 

Countess blinked twice in surprise. "I don't know... I've never really put much thought into it. I suppose most overlords only keep the sections of their turf to themselves, allowing small scuffles here and there. But is that really a problem? This is  _ Hell _ , after all. It's not like any of us are keen on diplomacy and democracy." 

"But we  _ could  _ be! Don't you see? We could end their rule of tyranny and create a new system! One that doesn't make Hell so bad. Besides, what if this made people sympathize with the hotel? You would have more demons than ever flocking into the doors. Imagine how happy Charlie would be! The reason why demons aren't willing to be redeemed is because they don't realize they're living in something wrong." 

Countess tapped her chin lightly, "So, if we make them realize that Hell isn't the best alternative and they've been manipulated into thinking something better is unattainable..."

"When they realize that's a lie fed by the overlords and the social construct of Hell--" 

"The hotel will have more guests!" Countess began to brighten up, the ideas all clicking in at once. 

"And more people will be able to be redeemed!" Theron exclaimed, a burst of mirth trickling out from his professional demeanor. 

They both gazed at each other with flushed faces and bright eyes, under the watchful eye of the moon. Countess's enthusiasm soon vanished, though, and her eyes drifted down. 

"You've forgotten one thing, Theron." She whispered, voice solemn. "I'm an overlord too." 

"But you'll be apart of the council. The leading catalyst of the movement." Theron said matter of factly like she should've known the whole time. "You're not like the others. I can tell, Countess." 

She looked away to the side, gazing out over the crimson hills that rolled over each other in battle. She watched as shadows danced across the crests, settling down for the night with their beloveds. At that moment, Countess remembered how lonely she felt. All those sleepless nights alone in bed. Rudy was delightful company, but it was a different kind of loneliness she felt herself sink into every night. It was a loneliness she'd never been able to fill ever since Alastor betrayed her; when he threw her out like wasted space. 

"Are you alright?" Theron asked, leaning over to look her in the eye. 

"Yes," She whispered, easing herself from the balcony and onto the cold stone. "It's getting late. I should retire to bed." 

"Countess..." Theron spoke softly, reaching out to grasp her hand. For a moment, she flinched away, the incident with Alastor flashing through her mind. But her hand soon fell to her side and Theron gently grabbed it. He had a much kinder and tenderer touch as he pulled himself closer. 

"Please, tell me what bothers you so. I can't bear to see you sad." Theron thickly whispered, his eyes filled with concern. 

Countess sighed, wrapping her fingers around his. She pulled him in closer and rested her forehead on his chest. 

"I just feel so alone." She whimpered into the fabric of his suit. 

His arms came to rest over the small of her back, tugging her into a warm embrace. He ran his fingers soothingly up and down her back as she began to breathe shakily into him. 

"You don't have to be alone anymore," Theron reassured her, placing his chin over her head and cradling her until her breathing began to slow. In the warmth of his embrace, she felt safe. She felt wanted. She felt that hole in her heart...and it didn't feel so wide. It had been so long since she'd felt at peace in another's arms. Where everything didn't seem so bad and the world was crumbling around them. 

When she lifted her head from his chest, eyes blurry and red, the sun drifted over the hills. 

In a brilliant flash of gold, everything exploded into passionate beauty. As she gazed into his own eyes, sparkling with something she couldn't quite explain, she felt drawn closer. Together they stood, bodies intertwined and hearts beating against the other. Neither dared move, not from the synergy that danced between them. An unspoken tension lay thick in the atmosphere they created. 

Theron was the first to move, leaning his face down to hers, eyes level with parted lips. And then...

He kissed her. 

Pressing gently against her lips. 

At once, her stomach twisted into something molten and hot. She grabbed him by the waist, overcome by the sensations of the moment. They kissed each other lovingly, dancing across the balcony with songs in their hearts. Her whole body was on fire, and the only way to quench this burning sensation was to press herself closer to him, breaking whatever boundaries or distance they'd had between them. Reason began to melt away, instead followed by blazing desire. It wasn't until something flashed in her mind, the face of another man, did the passion disappear and was replaced by something else...a feeling she couldn't quite explain. She violently pulled herself away from Theron, her lips swollen and breath short. 

Fear flashed across Theron's face as he realized what he'd done. 

"C-Countess. I don't know... I'm so sorry! I-"

She didn't give him time to explain. She stumbled past him, snapping her wings open and sailing off into the sunset with golden tears dripping down her lovely face. 

* * *

"Ya just need to give her space, Al," Angel commanded, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. "Seriously, you're clingy as fuck. And I've been around Valentino. You bring this to an entirely new level." 

"What would you suggest I do otherwise?" Alastor snapped, breaking yet another pen in his claws. The ink dripped onto the bleach white sheets of the paper he was trying to write on. Like venomous dots, they spread in feather-like patterns and began to cover the entire page in onyx black. "I've been giving her space for the past week! We only seem to be drifting further and further apart..." 

Angel Dust sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his eyes. "I don't know what else to tell ya, Alastor. Maybe it's best if you drift apart. Obviously, whatevah complicated relationship you two have together is toxic. I think it's best to just let her go. Maybe you both will be happier for it." 

He scraped his claws down the surface of his paper, ripping and tearing dark edges into the wet ink. " _ No _ ." He answered with poison on his tongue. "I can't let her go." 

"You can't be like this!" Angel exclaimed. "I know a thing or two about unhealthy relationships, okay?! They don't do any good for anybody! You need to just forget about her. Besides, isn't it your fault you're stuck in this situation in the first place? Wasn't it you that totally fucked up your friendship the first time?" 

"How  _ dare you _ \--"

"I ain't wrong!" Angel scoffed. "You two had it fine in the beginning, at least that's what I gather. Then you did something stupid, and everything went to shit." 

"You have no idea what happened." Alastor hissed. "What I had to do to protect my reputation, what I promised Lucifer--"

"Oh, I see," Angel stared down at Alastor accusingly. "So, ya got yourself stuck in a deal you couldn't get out of? Made a deal with the devil and look where it got ya. Got a taste of your own medicine, huh? Doesn't taste so good." 

"Leave me alone," Alastor sighed through his clenched teeth. "You've been nothing but a nuisance this entire time! You don't know anything about love!" 

"What?! And  _ you're  _ some  _ expert _ ?! You're the one who came to  _ me  _ to clean up  _ your  _ mess!" 

"Well, you've just made it worse! I came to you for help, not lectures!"

"You're one to talk!" Angel snapped. "You're always goin' around  _ praising  _ about redemption when ya don't want a lick of it yourself! You act like you're above everyone else when you're probably the worst of  _ all of us _ ! Fucking  _ hypocrite _ ." 

Alastor slammed his fists on the table, his rage boiling over his normally calm composure. Shadows began to rise above him, drowning the office with suffocating heat. Angel's eyes widened a bit, and he took a step back. 

"You better watch what you say around me," Alastor growled, his eyes pulsing scarlet in the dim room. "I could kill you with the snap of my fingers. It is that easy for me. The only thing stopping me from ripping off your  _ irritating head from your shoulders  _ is the fact that Charlie would be livid. I may be powerful, but I'm no idiot. I could never stand up against the princess of Hell. But do know, I could tear you apart and put you back together again without precious Charlie ever knowing the difference. I could torture you  _ ceaselessly _ , but leave you standing enough to fool her. Do not test me,  _ Angel Dust _ ." 

After a few moments of silence, Angel's face twisted into haughty rage.

"Fine," Angel huffed, stomping around and out the door. "Then I guess you don't need my help anymore!" He slammed the door shut behind him and Alastor fell down into his chair. A tired breath escaped him.

He'd  _ finally  _ rid himself of that annoying spider. He didn't even know why he decided to ask Angel for help in the first place. The demon was insufferable. 

But maybe he was right about some things. 

Alastor was beginning to notice how tenderly Theron treated Countess. Always quiet, patient, and affectionate. The absolute opposite of how Alastor behaved. Angel pointed that out once and mentioned how he should be more gentle with Countess. Alastor, of course, dismissed the idea. He wasn't a gentle creature by any means. It was against his nature to be tender and loving. 

Angel's advice got him nowhere. It only reminded him of how inadequate he was to win Countess's friendship. It made him feel weak and helpless. Alastor was  _ far _ from weak and helpless. He wishes he were kind and soft. Some days he gets tired of demons running away in fear. Alastor misses the days when he could stop on the street and strike up conversations with the passers-by. 

Alastor is lonely in more ways than one. But he's felt the loneliness the most with the absence of Countess. He sometimes forgot how little friends he had and how little he got to see them. The streets of Hell were rampant with scavengers and scoundrels. They were hardly any people that Alastor would ever come to trust and share his deepest insecurities and joys with. Thus, Alastor was very much alone, and he felt a deep and hollow ache in his heart. A heart he thought he never had. 

Alastor is at a loss on what to do. Angel wasn't much help to him, and he knew that he would only continue to hinder the hotel's progress so long as he was distracted with his personal life. Alastor knew what he had to do. It was a simple choice, and something he probably should have done much earlier. 

He was going to visit his friends. 

Perhaps that gnawing and aching hole in his gut would finally cease to bite. Maybe he'd finally find some peace-- _ any  _ kind of peace. Something to save him from the constant pain and anguish he's been feeling for the past few months. 

He needed Rosie. 

He only needed to tell Charlie that he'd be taking a week's break. 

To be frank, Charlie was the last person he wanted to see. After their altercation a few nights ago he's been reluctant to be around her. She'd nearly read him like an open book. It was surprising how much the princess knew about him, and he was a secretive man! Alastor liked to keep his personal life under lock and key and present a facade for the listeners around him. He was a showman. Putting on a show was what he was best at. 

He'd never felt so vulnerable before in his life or afterlife before that night. It was as if darling Charlotte Magne had binoculars into his very soul. It made Alastor immensely uncomfortable. 

But he needed to talk to Charlie. It would be rude of him to leave the hotel with no say, now wouldn't it? 

With a reluctant sigh, Alastor snapped his two fingers together and teleported to Charlie. 

She startled a bit at his presence but quickly recovered. She and Vaggie were walking down the stairs hand-in-hand. Vaggie immediately glared at Alastor, drawing Charlie closer to her chest. 

"What do you want, Alastor?" Vaggie asked, venom lacing her voice. 

"No need to worry, Vagatha, I am only here to tell Charlie that I will be gone for a few days." Alastor merely said, spinning his wrist around haphazardly. 

Vaggie narrowed her eyes slightly. "You sure have been spending a lot of time away from the hotel lately. How do I know you're not plotting our downfall or something?" 

Charlie interjected, her hands held out in proclamation. "Hey, it's okay! I'm sure Al has a good reason to be leaving. He hasn't betrayed us yet; let's give him the benefit of the doubt." 

Alastor smiled slyly, his eyes hooded over. 

Vaggie crossed her arms and mumbled a string of Spanish curses underneath her breath. Charlie gave her a small peck on the forehead and that calmed her down by a small margin. Vaggie smiled thinly and softly at Charlie. 

"Actually, Vags, can Alastor and I have a moment to talk in private?" Charlie asked sweetly. Vaggie glanced suspiciously between the two but sighed quietly. She squeezed Charlie's hand lovingly before disappearing down the hallway. 

There was a tense and awkward silence between the two before Charlie spoke up.

"I just wanna apologize for what happened a couple of nights ago. I was way out of line with all of those questions and assumptions. I shouldn't have stuck my nose into your personal business... I only wanted to help, and I think I've only made it worse." Charlie spoke softly, her voice breaking up on occasion. She was fiddling with her painted nails and she avoided making eye contact with him.

While he would normally brush off her brash behavior from that night with a jaunty jab and a quick-witted phrase, he felt a rare feeling of softness wash over him. Alastor has come to learn that Charlie may be naive and misguided, but she did mean well. She was one of the kindest demons he'd ever met, and he truly did appreciate her for that. 

"It's quite alright, Charlie. I understand that you had my best interests in mind." Alastor said, giving her a quick pat on the shoulder. "Just make sure not to do it again, hm?" 

She blinked up at him in surprise and opened her mouth to say something, but then she closed it. Instead, she gazed up at him with her large, dark eyes. 

"As much as I enjoy this staring contest that we've gotten ourselves into, I feel as if I must be going," Alastor bowed to the princes, sweeping his elbow beneath his chest and scampering down the hallway. 

He nearly tasted bile on his tongue. 

Since when had he become so sweet? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not proud of this, it's one of my least favorite chapters, but I hope you all enjoyed it regardless! I'm hoping the next chapter will be longer so I can make up for the GIGANTIC gap I had in posting. 
> 
> Again, thank you all for being so, so, so, patient with me, I really do appreciate it. 
> 
> Some small updates! 
> 
> I do have a Twitter and an Instagram! I unfortunately don't post much about updates to this fic on there but if you're interested in following me on those platforms, my @ is m00ndust21 on both. :) Also, I have a Pinterest board and a playlist for this fic! You can find the Pinterest nestled in earlier chapters and the playlist link is in the previous chapter! 
> 
> Another note: I now have a NaNoWriMo so I can try and keep myself motivated for writing more consistently! You can check up on the story's progress on there! Here's the catch, you have to make an account and you have to make sure you receive the activation email before you can see my profile. Idk why it's like that, but I learned that the hard way. If you all have any questions about how to find me on there, I will be happy to help! Link: https://nanowrimo.org/participants/moondust21 
> 
> ALSO. SHOUT OUT TO THE PERSON WHO MET MY CO-CREATOR AT HER JOB! When Animator2197 called me and said someone recognized Countess, I was over the moon! It made my day! So, if you're here and reading this; THANK YOU! You're AMAZING. Sometimes I forget people read this story. 😅
> 
> Once again, thank you all for being so AWESOME and thank you for reading! Don't forget to leave a comment and a kudos! These help me know what you think of the story and keep me EXTRA motivated to write more! 
> 
> Have a wonderful day, everyone! <3


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